Ridin' on the City of New Orleans Illinois Central Monday morning rail

Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders

Three conductors twenty-four sacks of mail

All along the southbound odyssey the train rolls out of Kankakee

Rolls along past houses farms and fields

Passin' trains that have no names switchyards full of old black men

Of graveyards full of rusted automobiles

Good morning America how are you

Said don't you know me I'm your native son

I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans

I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done



Playin' card games with an old man on the club car

Many a point no one's keepin' score

Pass that paper bag that holds the bottle

Feel the wheels a rumblin' neath the floor

And the sons of poor men porters and the sons of engineers

Ride their father's magic carpet made of steel

Mothers with their babes asleep rockin' to that gentle beat

And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel

Good morning America how are you...



Well it's night time on the City of New Orleans

Changin' cars in Memphis Tennessee

Half way home I'll be there by morning

Through the Mississippi darkness rollin' down to the sea

And all the towns and people seem to fade into a bad dream

And the steel rails still ain't heard the news

The conductor sings his songs again the passengers will please refrain

This train's got the disappearin' railroad blues

Good night America how are you...