Luyện nghe bài hát City Of New Orleans

Riding on the City Of New
Illinois Central, morning rail
Fifteen cars and restless riders
Three Conductors; twenty-five of mail
All along the odyssey - the train pulls out of Kankakee
And rolls along past houses, farms, and
Passing trains that have no name, and freight full of old black men
And the graveyards of the rusted

Good morning, America, how are
Say, you know me? I'm your native son
I'm the train they call the City Of New
I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is

Dealing games with the old man in the Club Car
a point - ain't no one keeping score
Pass the bag that holds the bottle
Feel the wheels rumbling the floor
And the of Pullman Porters, and the sons of Engineers
Ride their father's magic carpets made of
And, mothers with their babes rocking to the gentle beat
And the rhythm of the rails is all feel

morning, America, how are you?
Say, don't you know me? I'm native son
I'm the train they the City Of New Orleans
I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is

Night time on the Of New Orleans
cars in Memphis Tennessee
Halfway - we'll be there by morning
Through the darkness, rolling down to the sea
But, all the towns and people seem to into a bad dream
And the steel rail ain't heard the news
The conductor sings his songs again - the passengers will refrain
This train got the disappearing blues

Good night, America, how are
Say, don't you know me? I'm native son
I'm the train call the City Of New Orleans
I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is