There is a house in New Orleans they call the Rising Sun, and it's been the ruin of many a poor girl and me I know I'm one.
My mother she was a tailor, she sewed my new blue jeans, my father he was a gambling man way down in New Orleans. Now the only thing a gambler needs is a suitcase and a trunk, and the only time that he's satisfied is when he's on a drunk.
If I had listened to what mama said I wouldn't be here today, but being so young and foolish too, let a gambler lead me astray. With one foot on the platform and the other one on the train, I'm going back to New Orleans to wear that ball and chain.
Come tell my baby sister not to do what I have done, and shun that house in New Orleans they call the Rising Sun. I'm going back to New Orleans my race is almost run, I'm going back to end my life in the house of the rising sun.