Ridin' on the City of New Orleans Illinois Central Monday morning rail   Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders   Three conductors twenty-four sacks of mail   All along the southbound odyssey the train rolls out of Kankakee   Rolls along past houses farms and fields   Passin' trains that have no names switchyards full of old black men   Of graveyards full of rusted automobiles   Good morning America how are you   Said don't you know me I'm your native son   I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans   I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done      Playin' card games with an old man on the club car   Many a point no one's keepin' score   Pass that paper bag that holds the bottle   Feel the wheels a rumblin' neath the floor   And the sons of poor men 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 how are you...      Well it's night time on the City of New Orleans   Changin' cars in Memphis Tennessee   Half way home I'll be there by morning   Through the Mississippi darkness rollin' 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's got the disappearin' railroad blues   Good night America how are you...