There is a house in New Orleans.
They call the Rising Sun.
And it's been [bad word] of many young poor boys
And God I know I'm one.

My mother was a tailor
She sewed my new bluejeans
My father was a gamblin man
Down in New Orleans.

Now the only thing a gambler needs
Is a suitcase and a [bad word] And the only time that he's satisfied
Is when he's all [bad word] 

Oh mother tell your children
Not to do what I have done
To spend their life in sin and misery
In the house of the Rising Sun.

With one foot on the platform
And the other foot on the train
I'm going back to New Orleans
To wear that ball and chain

There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been [bad word] of many young poor boys
And god I know I'm one.