House of the Rising Sun

Traditional There is a house in New Orleans Call it the Rising Sun And it`s been the ruin Of many a poor girl And me, oh Lord, I`m one If I`d listened what my mama said Be at home today Bein` so young And foolish, my Lord Let a gambler lead me astray My mother was a tailor Sews new blue jeans My sweetheart`s is a drunkarad, Lord Drinks down in New Orleans Go tell my baby sister Never do what I have done Shun that house in New Orleans They call it the Rising Sun Goin` back to New Orleans Race is almost run Goin` back to spend my life Beneath, beneath, beneath, oh Lord Beneath, oh now Beneath the rising, rising sun Now, now You come on bye