Paroles de Rising Sun Blues

There is a house down in New Orleans They call the Rising Sun It's been the ruin of a many poor boy And me, oh God, I'am one Momma, she works as a tailor She sewed my new blue jeans And my dad was a gamblin' man Down in New Orleans The only thing that a rounder ever needs Is a suitcase and a trunk And the only time he's satisfied Is when he's on a drunk Then fill the glasses to the brim Let the drinks go merrily around We'll drink to the health of a rounder poor boy Who goes from town to town Now boys don't believe what a girl tells you Though her eyes be blue or brown Unless she's on some scaffold high Saying: Boys, I can't come down Go tell my youngest brother Not to do the awful things I've done But to shun that house down in New Orleans That they call the Rising Sun Soon they will take me back down to New Orleans To face all the crimes that I have done Than they Until my