| Am | C | D | F | Am | C | E | |
| There is | a house in | New Or | leans, | They call | the Rising | Sun, |
| Am | C | D | F | |
| its been the | ruin of | many a | girl, |
| Am | E | Am | |
| and me | oh Lord | I'm one |
| My mother is a tailor she sews those new blue jeans, |
| my husband he's a gambling man |
| drinks down in New Orleans. |
| My husband is a gambler, he goes from town to town, |
| the only time he satified, is when |
| he drinks his liquor down. |
| Go tell my baby sister, never do what I have done, |
| shun that house in New Orleans, |
| They call the "Rising Sun". |
| One foot on the platform, the other's on the train, |
| I'm going back to New Orleans, |
| to wear that ball and chain. |
| Going back to New Orlean, my race is almost run, |
| I'm going to spend the rest of my life, |
| beneath That "Rising Sun". |