Текст песни
and the days were full of restless and their dreams were full of memories
I was dealing cards with the old man in the club car, and the sons of pullman porters and the sons of engineers, i ll be gone five hundred miles when the days is done
i m your native son
i m your native son
Illinois central monday morning rail, and the days were full of restless and their dreams were full of memories
We ll be there by morning, singing goodbye america of, saying don t you know me
With no tomorrow waiting round the bend, three conductors and twenty five sacks of mail
and the days were full of restless and their dreams were full of memories
say won t you pass the paper bag that holds the bottle
I m your native son, farms and fields, saying don t you know me
Singing goodbye america, saying don t you know me City, i m your native son
I m your native son, riding on the city of new orleans
Farms and fields, three conductors and twenty five sacks of mail, ride their father s magic carpet made of steel
Riding on the city of new orleans, we ll be there by morning
Illinois central monday morning rail, and the sons of pullman porters and the sons of engineers Denver, they re out on the south-bound odyssey and the train pulls out of kankakee
Singing good morning america, say won t you pass the paper bag that holds the bottle, i ll be gone five hundred miles when the days is done
Singing good morning america, i m your native son
Saying don t you know me, i ll be gone five hundred miles when the days is done, three conductors and twenty five sacks of mail
Singing good morning america, saying don t you know me, we ll be there by morning
And the sons of pullman porters and the sons of engineers, i ll be gone five hundred miles when the days is done
I m the train they call city of new orleans, i ll be gone five hundred miles when the days is done Orleans, passing towns that have no names and freightyards full of old black men
they re out on the south-bound odyssey and the train pulls out of kankakee
yes i m the train they call the city of new orleans
Singing good morning america, three conductors and twenty five sacks of mail