Arlo Guthrie vs. Willie Nelson

 Link: [Arlo Guthrie]

Link: [On YouTube]

City of New Orleans

Arlo Guthrie

Ridin’ on

The City of New Orleans

Illinois Central

Monday morning rail

Fifteen cars

And fifteen restless riders

Three conductors

And twenty-five sacks of mail

All along the southbound odyssey

The train pulls out of Kankakee

And rolls along past houses farms and fields

Passin’ trains that have no name

Freight yards full of old black men

And the graveyards of the rusted automobile

Good mornin’ America

How are ya

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

Dealin’ card games

With the old men in the club car

Penny a point

Ain’t no one keepin’ score

Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle

Feel the wheels

Rumblin’ ‘neath the floor

And the sons of Pullman porters

And the sons of engineers

Ride their fathers’ magic carpets

Made of steel

Mothers with their babes asleep

Rockin’ to the gentle beat

And the rhythm of the rails

Is all they feel

Good mornin’ America

How are ya

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

Night time

On the City of New Orleans

Changin’ cars

In Memphis Tennessee

Halfway home

We’ll be there by mornin’

Through the Mississippi darkness

Rollin’ down to the sea

But all the towns and people seem

To fade into a bad dream

And 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

Good night America

How are ya

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

Link: [Willie Nelson]

Link: [On YouTube]

City of New Orleans

Willie Nelson

Ridin’ on

The City of New Orleans

Illinois Central

Monday morning rail

Fifteen cars

And fifteen restless riders

Three conductors

And twenty-five sacks of mail

All along the southbound odyssey

The train pulls out of Kankakee

And rolls along past houses farms and fields

Passin’ trains that have no name

And freight yards full of old black men

And the graveyards of the rusted automobile

Good mornin’ America

How are ya

Say

Don’t you know me

I’m your native son

I’m the train they call

The City of New Orleans

And I’ll be gone five hundred miles

When the day is done

Dealin’ card games

With the old men in the club car

Penny a point

Ain’t no one keepin’ score

Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle

Feel the wheels

Rumblin’ ‘neath the floor

And the sons of Pullman porters

And the sons of engineers

Ride their fathers’ magic carpets

Made of steel

Mothers with their babes asleep

Rockin’ to the gentle beat

And the rhythm of the rails

Is all they feel

Good mornin’ America

How are ya

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

Night time on

The City of New Orleans

Changin’ cars

In Memphis Tennessee

Halfway home

We’ll be there by mornin’

Through the Mississippi darkness

Rollin’ down to the sea

But all the towns and people seem

To fade into a bad dream

And the steel rail

Still ain’t heard the news

The conductor sings his songs again

The passengers will please refrain

This train has got

The disappearin’ railroad blues

Good night America

How are ya

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

Lyrics From: [elyrics.net]

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[FishHawk Droppings]

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