Capo 2

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	Riding on the	City of New	Orleans

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	Illinois central,	Monday morning	rail

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	Fifteen cars and	15 restless	riders

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Three con	ductors and	25 sacks of	mail

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All	along the southbound odyssey,	the train pulls out of Kankakee

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And	rolls along past houses, farms, and	fields

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	Passing towns that have no name, and	freight yards full of old black men

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And the	graveyards of	the rusted automo	biles

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	Good morning	America how	are you

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Say	don't you know me,	I'm your native	son

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I'm the	train they call the	City of New	Orleans

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I'll be	gone five	hundred	miles when the	day is	done

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	Dealing cards with the	old men in the	clubcar

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	Penny a point ain't no	one keeping	score

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	Pass the paper	bag that holds the	bottle

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	And feel the wheels	rumbling neath the	floor

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And the	sons of pullman porters, and the	sons of engineers

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Ride their	fathers magic carpet made of	steel

	Am	Em
	Mothers with their babes a sleep,	a rocking to the gentle beat

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And the	rhythm of the	rails is all they	feel

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	Nighttime on the	City of New	Orleans

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	Changing cars in	Memphis	Tennesse

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	Halfway home and	we'll be there by	morning

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	Through the Mississippi darkness	rolling down to the	sea

	Am	Em
	And all the towns and people seem,	to fade into a bad dream

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	And the steel rail still ain't heard the	news

	Am	Em
	The conducter sings his song again,	the passengers will please refrain

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	This train's got the	disappearing railroad	blues

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	Good night	America how are	you

	Am	F	C	G7
Say	don't you know me,	I'm your native	son

	C	G	Am
I'm the	train they call the	City of New	Orleans

	Bb	F	G	G7	C
I'll be	gone five	hundred	miles when the	day is	done