My mother was a tailor 
She sewed these new blue jeans 
My father was a gambler 
Down in New 
Orleans The only thing a gambler needs 
His suitcase and a trunk 
The only pleasure he gets out of life 
When he’s all drunk 
I know the song 
I sing when 
I spend my time in 
Down at the 
Rising Sun 
So mother tell your children 
Not to do what 
I have done 
Spend my life in — sitting in misery 
Down at the 
Rising Sun