Arlo Guthrie – City Of New Orleans (Ukulele)

D             A       D
Riding on the City of New Orleans

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Illinois Central Monday morning rail

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Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders

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Three conductors and twenty-five sacks of mail.

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All along the south bound odyssey, the train pulls out of Kenkakee

A                                 E
Rolls along past houses farms and fields

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Passing trains that have no name, freight yards of old black men

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And graveyards of rusted automobiles.

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Good morning America, how are you?

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Say, don't you know me, I'm your native son.

A7      D                   A       Bm         E7
I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans

        C                 A                     D
I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done.

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Dealing card games with the old men in the club car

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Penny a point ain't no one keeping score

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Pass the paper bag but hold the bottle

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Feel the wheels rumbling 'neath the floor

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And the sons of Pullman porters and the sons of engineers

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Ride their father's magic carpets made of steel

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Mother with her babes asleep rocking to the gentle beat

        A             A7                D
And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel.

G            A            D
Good morning America, how are you?

     Bm                 G               D
Say, don't you know me, I'm your native son.

A7      D                   A       Bm         E7
I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans

        C                 A                     D
I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done.

D                 A       D
Night time on the City of New Orleans

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Changing cars in Memphis Tennessee

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Halfway home we'll be there by morning

            Bm                   A                   D
through the Mississippi darkness rolling down to the sea.

    Bm                               F#m
But all the towns and people seem to fade into a dark dream

        A                                E
And the steel rail still ain't heard the news

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The conductor sings his songs again, the passengers will please refrain

     A                  A7               D
This train got the disappearing railroad blues.

G            A            D
Good morning America, how are you?

     Bm                 G               D
Say, don't you know me, I'm your native son.

A7      D                   A       Bm         E7
I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans

        C                 A                     D
I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done.