My mother, she was a tailor
Sewed these new bluejeans
My father was a gamblin' man
Way down in New Orleans
My mother, she would look at me
She said, son, you've got a long road ahead
Son, some may roll and make you crazy
But don't forget these words I said
And don't forget what your name is
And know what the game is
From the North coast to the South Coast
From country to country
Mind to mind
Generation to generation
From time to time
And to sniff across your mind
To go downtown
And to hang around
The House of The Rising Sun

Mother was a tailor
Sewed these new blue-jeans
Father was a gamblin' man, yea yea
Way down, way down, in New Orleans
And the only thing a gambling man needs
Is some cash, ooh lord, and a trunk
And the only time he's satisfied, ya ya
Is when he's on some form of drug
Ya-aah, board and bought, oh no
To where, I do belong
I'm wandering back
To earn my pays, in The House
They call, the Rising Sun
Mother tell your baby children, yea yea
Don't do the things that I've done
Spend your life in sin and misery
In The House, they call, the Rising Sun
Ohh
House, of The Rising, Sun