There is a house down in New Orleans They call the Rising Sun And it's been the ruin of a many poor boy And me, oh God, I'm one Go tell my youngest brother for me Not to do the things I've done But to shun that house down in New Orleans They call the Rising Sun [Instrumental Break] Oh, well, the only thing that a rounder needs Is a suitcase or a trunk And the only time he's satisfied Is when he's on a drunk So fill up your glasses to the brim Let the drinks flow merrily 'round And we'll drink to the health of a rounder poor boy Who goes from town to town [Instrumental Break] Now, boys, don't believe what a bad girl tells you Though her eyes be blue or brown Unless she's on some scaffold high Sayin', "Boys, I can't come down" [Instrumental Break] They'll take me back down to New Orleans To face the crimes I've done And they'll tie me to a ball and chain Until my race is run