City Of New Orleans

Riding 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 at Kankakee Rolls along past houses, farms and fields Passin' trains that have no names Freight yards full of old black men And the graveyards of the rusted automobiles Chorus Good morning, America, how are you 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