Standard (EADGBE)

Ridin' on the City of New Orleans

Illinois Central Monday mornin' rail

There's 15 cars, and 15 restless riders

3 conductors and 25 sacks of mail

All along a southbound oddyssey, and the train pulls out of Kankakee

And rolls along past the houses, farms and fields

Passin' towns that have no name, and freightyards full of old grey men

The graveyards of the rusted automobiles

Chorus

Singin' good mornin' America, how are you?

 Sayin' 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 500 miles when the day is done.

I was playin' cards with the old men in the club car.

Penny a point, ain’t no one keepin' score

Pass the paper bag that holds that bottle.

I can hear the wheels rumblin' thru the floor.

And the sons of Pullman Porters, and the sons of engineers

Ride their father's magic carpet made of steel

And their days are full of restless, and their dreams are full of mem'ries

And the echos of the freight train whistle’s clear

Chorus

Singin' good mornin' America, how are you?

Sayin' 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 500 miles when the day is done.

And its twilight on the City of New Orleans.

Talk about your pocket full of friends

Half way home, and we'll be there by mornin'

With no tomorrow waiting ‘round the bend

Chorus 2

Singin' good night 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 500 miles when the day is done.

Singin' good mornin' America, how are you?

Sayin' don't you know me? I'm your native son

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

I'll be gone 500 miles when the day is done.