作词 : Goodman
City of New Orleans
 
 Ridin' on the City of New Orleans 
 Illinois Central, Monday mornin' rail 
 15 cars & 15 restless riders 
 Three conductors, 25 sacks of mail 
 
 All along the southbound odyssey the train pulls out of Kankakee 
 Rolls along past houses, farms & fields 
 Passin' trains that have no names, freight yards full of old black men 
 And the graveyards of rusted automobiles 
 
 Good mornin' America, how are you? 
 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
 
 Dealin' cards with the old men in the club car 
 Penny a point, ain't no one keepin' score 
 Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle 
 And feel the wheels rumblin' neath the floor 
 
 And the sons of Pullman porters & the sons of engineers 
 Ride their fathers' magic carpets made of steel 
 Mothers with their babes asleep, rockin' to the gentle beat 
 And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel 
 
 Good mornin' 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.
 
 Night time on the City of New Orleans 
 Changin' cars in Memphis, Tennessee 
 Halfway home, we'll be there by mornin' 
 Thru the Mississippi darkness rollin' down to the sea 
 
 But all the towns and people seem to fade into a bad dream 
 And the steel rail still ain't heard the news 
 The conductor sings his songs again 
 "The passengers will please refrain: 
 This train got the disappea rin' railroad blues
 
 Good night 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.