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Lyrics to "House Of The Rising Sun" by JOHNNY CASH: There is a house in New Orleans / They call the Rising Sun / And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy / And, God, I know I'm one / My mother was a tailor / She sewed my new blue jeans / My father was a gamblin' man / Down in New Orleans / Now the only thing a gamb Tekst piosenki: There is a house in New Orleans. They call the Rising Sun. And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy. And God I know I'm one. My mother was a tailor. She sewed my new blue jeans. My father was a gamblin' man. Down in New Orleans. 2018 - Album: The Ghost of Johnny Cash*House of the Rising SunJohnny Cash*C'è una casa a New OrleansThere is a house in New OrleansChiamano il Sol LevanteThe Lyrics to The Ghost Of Johnny Cash house of the rising sun: There is a house in New Orleans They call the Rising Sun And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy And God I know I'm one My mother was a tailor She sewed my new bluejeans My father was a gamblin' The House of the Rising Sun lyrics There is a house in New Orleans They call the Rising Sun And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy And, God, I know I'm one My mother was a tailor She sewed my new blue jeans My father was a gamblin' man Down in New Orleans Now the only thing a gambler needs Is a suitcase and trunk And the only time he's satisfied #rock #music #lyrics #country #hiphop #johnnycash ⏩ The Ghost of Johnny Cash - House of the Rising Sun Lyrics:There is a house in New OrleansThey call the R 53 views 2 weeks ago. ""The House of the Rising Sun" is a traditional folk song, sometimes called "Rising Sun Blues". It tells of a person's life gone wrong in the city of New Orleans. There is a house in New Orleans They call the Rising Sun It's been the ruin of many a poor boy And God, I know I'm one My mother was a tailor She sewed my new blue jeans My father was a gamblin' man Way down in New Orleans Now the only thing a gambler needs Is a suitcase and trunk And the only time he feels satisfied Is when he's on a drunk Oh aboutDavidradcliffe2@gmail.com Am G I can taste the salt; feel the blisters on my hand D/F# F As I'm pulling at the ores, rowing on to glory land, Am C G D/F# And sitting in the stern, singin' hymns and talkin' trash Am G D/F# F .