House Of The Rising Sun

there is a house in new orleans, they call the rising sun, and it's been the ruin, of many a poor boy, and god, i know, cuz' i'm one, my mother, was a tailor, she 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 trunk, and the only time that he's satisfied, is when, he's on, a drunk, oh mother, tell your children, not to do what i have done, spend your lives in sin and misery, in the house of the rising sun, in the house of the rising sun