City of New Orleans

Ridin' on the 'City of New Orleans'
 Illinois Central, Monday morning rail
 15 cars and 15 restless riders
 Three conductors and 25 sacks of mail
 All along the southbound odyssey, the train pulled out at Kankakee
 It rolls along past houses, farms and fields
 Passing trains that have no name and freight yards full of old black men
 And the graveyards of the rusted automobiles
 Good morning America, how are you?
 Say, don't you know me? I'm your native son
 I'm the train they call, 'The City of New Orleans'
 And I'll be gone 500 miles, the day is done
 Dealing cards with the old man in the club car
 Penny a point, ain't no one keepin' score
 Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle
 Feel the wheels rumblin' neath the floor
 And the sons of Pullman porters and the sons of engineers
 Ride their father's magic carpet made of steel
 Mothers with their babes asleep, rockin' to the gentle beat
 And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel
 Good morning America, how are you?
 Say, 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
 Nighttime on the 'City of New Orleans'
 Changing cars in Memphis, Tennessee
 Halfway home, we'll be there by morning
 Through the Mississippi darkness, rollin' down to the sea
 But 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 has got the disappearing railroad blues
 Good morning America, how are you?
 Say, 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