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There is a house in New Orleans |
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They call the Rising Sun |
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It's been the ruin of many poor boy |
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And Lord I know I'm one |
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Go tell my brother Phillip |
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Don't do what I have done |
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To shun the house in New Orleans |
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They call the Rising Sun |
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Our mother she was a tailor |
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She sewed our old bluejeans |
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Our father he was a gambler |
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Way down in New Orleans |
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There is a house in New Orleans |
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They call the Rising Sun |
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And it's been the death of many poor boy |
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And Lord I know I'm one |
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Now the only thing a gambler needs |
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Is a suitcase and a trunk |
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And the only time that he's satisfied |
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Is when he's on a drunk |
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Oh mother tell your children |
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Not to do what I have done |
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To spend their life in sin and misery |
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In the house of the Rising Sun |
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With one foot on the platform |
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And the other foot on the train |
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I'm going back to New Orleans |
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To wear that ball and chain |
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There is a house in New Orleans |
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They call the Rising Sun |
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And it's been the death of many poor boy |
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And Lord I know I'm one |