City of New Orleans

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 On a long southbound, hard to see (?) the train pull down at Kentucky It rolls along past houses farms and fields Passing trains that have no names and Freight yards full them old black bins (?) And the graveyards of rusted automobiles 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 500 miles when the day is done Dealing cards with the old man in the club car (?), ain't no one keepin' it slow Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle Feel the wheels rumble beneath the floor (?) Ride your father's magic carpet made of steel Mothers with their babies asleep, rockin' to the gentle beat And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel 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 500 miles when the day is done Nighttime on the 'City of New Orleans" Changing cars in Memphis, Tennessee Halfway home, we'll be there by morning Thru the Mississippi darkness, rollin' down to the sea But all the towns that people seem to fade into a bad dream And the steel rails still ain't hurt to do The conductor sings his songs again The passengers will (?) The train has got the dissappearing railroad bloom 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 500 miles when the day is done