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    Doc Watson / Lyrics

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    "Rising Sun Blues" Lyrics

    Doc Watson

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    There is a house down in New Orleans
    They call the Rising Sun
    And it's been the ruin of a many poor boy
    And me, oh God, for one

    Then fill the glasses to the brim
    Let the drinks go merrily around
    And we'll drink to the health of a rounder poor boy
    Who goes from town to town

    The only thing that a rounder needs
    Is a suitcase and a trunk
    And the only time he's satisfied
    Is when he's on a drunk

    Now boys, don't believe what a girl tells you
    Though her eyes be blue or brown
    Unless she's on some scaffold high
    Saying, "Boys, I can't come down"

    Go tell my youngest brother
    Not to do the things I've done
    But to shun that house down in New Orleans
    They call the Rising Sun

    I'm going back, back to New Orleans
    For my race is nearly run
    Gonna spend the rest of my wicked life
    Beneath that Rising Sun
    This song was submitted on November 17th, 2012 and last modified on October 18th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Downtown Music Publishing.
    Written by Doc Watson.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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