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

My mother was a tailor,
Sewed my new blue jeans,
My father was a gambling man
Down in New Orleans.

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

Oh mothers tell your children
Not to do what I have done, 
Spend your life in sin and misery
In the House of the Rising Sun.

Well, I've got one foot on the platform,
The other foot on the train
And I'm going back to New Orleans
To wear that ball and chain.

Well, there is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been [bad word] of many a poor boy
And God, I know I'm one