Lyrics:
Ridin' on the City of New OrleansIllinois Central, Monday mornin' rail15 cars & 15 restless ridersThree conductors, 25 sacks of mailAll along the southbound odyssey the train pulls out of KankakeeRolls along past houses, farms & fieldsPassin' graves that have no name, freight yards full of old black menAnd the graveyards of rusted automobilesChorus: 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 OrleansI'll be gone 500 miles when the day is doneDealin' cards with the old men in the club carPenny a point, ain't no one keepin' scorePass the paper bag that holds the bottleAnd feel the wheels grumblin' neath the floorAnd the sons of Pullman porters & the sons of engineersRide their fathers' magic carpet made of steelMothers with their babes asleep, rockin' to the gentle beatAnd the rhythm of the rails is all they feelRepeat ChorusNight time on the City of New OrleansChangin' cars in Memphis, TennesseeHalfway home, we'll be there by mornin'Thru the Mississippi darkness rollin' down to the seaBut all the towns & people seem to fade into a bad dreamAnd the steel rail still ain't heard the newsThe conductor sings his song again'The passengers will please refrain:This train has got the disappearin' railroad bluesRepeat Chorus