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Nina Simone - The House of the Rising Sun

There is a house in New Orleans
They call it the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin 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 new blue jeans
And my sweetheart is a drunkard, Lord
Drinks down in New Orleans

Now the only thing a drunken man needs
Is a suitcase and a trunk
And the only time he's satisfied
Lord, is when he's on the drunk

Go tell my baby sister
Never to do what I have done
But shun that house in New Orleans
They call it the Rising Sun

Goin' back to New Orleans
My race is almost won
Goin' back to spend my life
Beneath, beneath, oh Lord
Beneath, whoa now, beneath, the rising sun
Now, now
Ain't comin' back
Ain't comin' back
Bye, bye, baby, yeah
Eh, eh
Yeah, come-a
Yeah, come-a
Yeah, come-a, come-a
Yeah, come-a back

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