Luyện nghe bài hát City Of New Orleans

Riding on the Of New Orleans
Illinois Central, Monday morning
cars and fifteen restless riders
Three twenty-five sacks of mail
All along the southbound odyssey - the train out of Kankakee
And rolls along houses, farms, and fields
Passing trains that have no name, and freight yards full of old men
And the graveyards of the rusted

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

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

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

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

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