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Riding on the City of New Orleans,Illinois Central Monday morning railFifteen cars and fifteen restless riders,Three conductors and twenty-five sacks of mail.All along the southbound odysseyThe train pulls out at KankakeeRolls along past houses, farms and fields.Passin' trains that have no names,Freight yards full of old black menAnd the graveyards of the rusted automobiles.CHORUS:Good morning 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 five hundred miles when the day is done.Dealin' card games with the old men in the club car.Penny a point ain't no one keepin' score.Pass the paper bag that holds the bottleFeel the wheels rumblin' 'neath the floor.And the sons of pullman portersAnd the sons of engineersRide their father's magic carpets made of steel.Mothers with their babes asleep,Are rockin' to the gentle beatSongtexteAnd the rhythm of the rails is all they feel.CHORUSNighttime on The City of New Orleans,Changing cars in Memphis, Tennessee.Half way home, we'll be there by morningThrough the Mississippi darknessRolling down to the sea.And all the towns and people seemTo fade into a bad dreamAnd the steel rails still ain't heard the news.The conductor sings his song again,The passengers will please refrainThis train's got the disappearing railroad blues.Good night, 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 five hundred miles when the day is done Aus Songtexte Mania