GRiding on the DCity of New OrGleans,
EmIllinois Central, CMonday morning Grail,
GFifteen cars and fiDfteen restless Griders,
Three conEmductors, and tDwenty five sacks of Gmail.
 
All aEmlong the southbound odyssey,
The Bmtrain pulls out of Kankakee,
And Drolls along the houses, farms and Afields.
 
EmPassing trains that have no name,
And Bmfreight yards full of old black men,
And Dgraveyards of the rusted automoGbiles.
 
{c:Chorus:} 
     CGood morning AmDerica, how aGre you?
     Say Emdon't you know me, CI'm your native Gson.
     DI'm the Gtrain they call the DCity of New EmOrleans,
     I'll be gonFe five Chundred milesD when the day is Gdone.
 
Dealing card games with the old men in the club cars, 
A penny a point, ain't no one keeping score. 
Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle, 
And feel the wheels rumbling 'neath the floor. 
 
And the sons of Pullman porters, 
And the sons of engineers, 
Ride their fathers' magic carpet made of steel. 
 
Mothers with their babes asleep, 
Rocking to the gentle beat, 
And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel. 
 
     {c:Chorus.} 
 
Nighttime on the City of New Orleans, 
Changing cars in Memphis, Tennesee. 
Halfway home, and we'll be there by morning, 
Through the Misissippi darkness, rolling down to the sea. 
 
But all the towns and people seem 
To fade into a bad dream, 
The steel rail still ain't heard the news. 
 
The conductor sings his songs again, 
The passengers will please refrain, 
This train's got the disappearin' railroad blues. 
 
{c:Chorus:} 
     Goodnight America, how are you? 
     Say 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.