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

If I had only listened of what my mama said
I'd be at home today
But bein' so young and foolish, my Lord
Let a gambler lead me astray

Now, my mother is a tailor
She sews those new blue jeans
And my sweetheart is a [bad word]  Lord
Drinks down in New Orleans

Now the only thing a [bad word] man needs
Is a suitcase and a [bad word] And the only time he's satisfied
Lord, is when he's on the [bad word] 
Somebody go get my baby sister
Tell her not to do, never to do what I have done
But shun that house in New Orleans
They call it the Rising Sun
7g
Well, I'm goin' back to New Orleans
My race is [bad word] Yes, I'm goin' back to spend my life
Beneath, beneath, the rising sun