There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun.
It's been [bad word] of many a poor girl
And me, Oh God, for one.

If I had listened what Mama said,
I'd be at home today.
Being so young and foolish, poor boy,
Let a rambler lead me astray.

Go tell my baby sister
Never do like I have done
To shun that house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun.

Going back to New Orleans,
My race is [bad word] 
Going back to spend the rest of my days
Beneath that Rising Sun.