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C. W. McCall

City Of New Orleans

 

City Of New Orleans

(álbum: C. W. McCall & Co. - 1979)


Riding on The City of New Orleans
Illinois Central Monday morning rail
Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders
Two conductors and a-twenty-five sacks a' mail
All along the southbound odyssey
The train pulls out at Kankakee
And moves on along past houses, farms and fields
Passing trains what ain't got no names
Switch yards full a' old black men
And the graveyards full of them rusted automobiles

Good morning America, how are ya?
Well, a don'tcha know me? I'm your native son
I'm the train they call The City of New Orleans
And I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done

A-dealing cards with an old man down in the club car
Just a penny a point ain't a-nobody keeping score
Say won't you pass that there paper bag that's a-wrapping the bottle
Feel them wheels rumbling under that floor
And the sons of Pullman porters
And the sons of engineers
Ride their daddy's magical carpet made out of steel
Mamas with their babies asleeping
Are rocking to the gentle beat
And the rhythm of the rocking rails is all they feel

Good morning America, how are ya?
Well, a don'tcha know me? I'm your native son
I'm the train they call The City of New Orleans
And I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done

Night-time on The City of New Orleans
A-changing cars a-down in Memphis, Tennessee
Well, a half way home, and a we gonna be there by morning
Through the Mississippi darkness
Rolling down to that sea
Now all a' them towns and all the people seem
To fade away into a bad ol' dream
But the steel rail, well he still ain't heard that news
Conductor's a-singing that song again
Saying "Passengers will please refrain
"This train done got the disappearing railroad blues"

Good night America, how are ya?
Well, a don'tcha know me? I'm your native son
I'm the train they call The City of New Orleans
And I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done

Mamas with their babies asleeping
Are rocking to the gentle beat
And the rhythm of the rocking rails is all they feel

Mamas with their babies asleeping
Are rocking to the gentle beat
And the rhythm of the rocking rails is all they feel

Yeah

hecho

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