[Verse 1]
Riding 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
Passing trains that have no name and freight yards full of old Black men
And the graveyards full of rusted automobiles

[Chorus]
Good morning, 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
And I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done

[Verse 2]
Dealing cards with the old man in the club car
Penny a point, ain't no one keeping score
Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle
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
[Chorus]
Good morning, 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

[Instrumental Break]

[Verse 3]
Night time on the City of New Orleans
Changing cars in Memphis, Tennessee
Halfway home, we'll be there by morning
Through the Mississippi darkness rolling down to the sea
But all the towns and people seem to fade into a bad dream
And the steel rails still ain't heard the news
The conductor sings his songs again, the passengers will please refrain
This train has got the disappearing railroad blues

[Chorus]
Good morning, 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