Ridin' on the City of New Orleans Illinois Central Monday morning rail   Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders   Three conductors and twenty-five sacks of mail   All along the southbound odyssey the train pulls out of Kankakee   And rolls along past houses farms and fields   Passing trains that have no name and frightyards full of old black men.   And graveyards full of rusted automobiles   Good morning America how are you? say don't you know me I'm your native son   I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans   And I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done      Dealin' cards games with the old men in the club car   penny a point ain't no one keepin' score   Pass that paper bag that holds the bottle   And feel the wheels a rumbling neath the floor   And the sons of pullmen porters and the sons of engineers   Ride their father's magic carpet made of steel   Mothers with their babes asleep rockin' to that gentle beat   And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel   Good morning America...   [ guitar ]   Night time on the City of New Orleans changing cars in Memphis Tennessee   Half way home we'll be there by morning   Through the Mississippi darkness rolling down to the sea   And all the towns and people seem to fade into a bad dream   And the steel rails still ain't heard the news   The conductor sings his songs again the passengers will please refrain   This train has got to disappear in railroad blues   Good morning America...