D                A             D
Ridin' on the City of New Orleans
Bm               G             D
Illinois Central Monday mornin' rail
D                A               D
There's 15 cars, and 15 restless riders
Bm              A              D
3 conductors and 25 sacks of mail

Bm                               F#m
All along a southbound oddyssey, and the train pulls out of Kankakee
A                                          E
And rolls along past the houses, farms and fields
Bm                               F#m
Passin' towns that have no name, and freightyards full of old grey men
A                  A7                 D
The graveyards of the rusted automobiles

Refrão:
G                     A7               D
Singin' good mornin' America, how are you?
       Bm                 G               D          A7
Sayin' don't you know me?, I'm your native son
        D                   A           Bm-Bm7-E7
I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans
       C      G     A                     D
I'll be gone 500 miles when the day is done.

D                   A                             D
I was playin' cards with the old men in the club car.
Bm              G                     D
Penny a point, ain’t no one keepin' score
D               A                     D
Pass the paper bag that holds that bottle.
Bm                    A                 D
I can hear the wheels rumblin' thru the floor.

Bm                               F#m
And the sons of Pullman Porters, and the sons of engineers
A                                         E
Ride their father's magic carpet made of steel
Bm                                   F#m
And their days are full of restless, and their dreams are full of mem'ries
A                    A7                      D
And the echos of the freight train whistle’s clear

Refrão:
Singin' good mornin' America, how are you?
Sayin' 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 500 miles when the day is done.

D                     A             D
And its twilight on the City of New Orleans.
Bm               G                  D
Talk about your pocket full of friends
D                     A               D
Half way home, and we'll be there by mornin'
Bm               A                  D
With no tomorrow waiting 'round the bend

Singin' good night 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 500 miles when the day is done.

Singin' good mornin' America, how are you?
Sayin' don't you know me? I'm your native son
Yes, I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans
I'll be gone 500 miles when the day is done.