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(Steve Goodman)
Ridin' on The City of New Orleans Illinois Central Monday morning rail Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders Two conductors and a-twenty-five sacks a' mail All along the southbound odyssey The train pulls out at Kankakee And moves on along past houses, farms and fields Passin' trains what ain't got no names Switch yards full a' old black men And the graveyards full of them rusted automobiles
[Chorus] Good mornin' America, how are ya? Well, a don'tcha know me? I'm your native son I'm the train they call The City of New Orleans And I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done
A-dealin' cards with an old man down in the club car Just a penny a point ain't a-nobody keepin' score Say won't you pass that there paper bag that's a-wrappin' the bottle Feel them wheels rumblin' under that floor And the sons of Pullman porters And the sons of engineers Ride their daddy's magical carpet made out of steel Mamas with their babies asleepin' Are rockin' to the gentle beat And the rhythm of the rockin' rails is all they feel
[Chorus] Good mornin' America, how are ya? Well, a don'tcha know me? I'm your native son I'm the train they call The City of New Orleans And I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done
Night-time on The City of New Orleans A-changin' cars a-down in Memphis, Tennessee Well, a half way home, and a we gonna be there by mornin' Through the Mississippi darkness Rollin' down to that sea Now all a' them towns and all the people seem To fade away into a bad ol' dream But the steel rail, well he still ain't heard that news Conductor's a-singin' that song again Sayin' "Passengers will please refrain "This train done got the disappearin' railroad blues"
[Chorus] Good night America, how are ya? Well, a don'tcha know me? I'm your native son I'm the train they call The City of New Orleans And I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done
[Fade out.] Mamas with their babies asleepin' Are rockin' to the gentle beat And the rhythm of the rockin' rails is all they feel
Mamas with their babies asleepin' Are rockin' to the gentle beat And the rhythm of the rockin' rails is all they feel
Yeah.
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Fragment na dzis:
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a ołtarza
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