My mother was a tailor
She sewed these new blue jeans
My father was a gambler
Down in New Orleans
The only thing a gambler needs
His suitcase and a trunk
The only pleasure he gets out of life
When he’s all drunk
I know the song I sing when
I spend my time in
Down at the Rising Sun
So mother tell your children
Not to do what I have done
Spend my life in — sitting in misery
Down at the Rising Sun
