Luyện nghe bài hát City of New Orleans

Riding on the of New Orleans
Illinois Central, Monday rail
cars and fifteen restless riders
Three conductors and twenty five sacks of

They're out on the southbound
pulls out of Kankakee
Rolls along past houses, and fields
Passing towns have no names
Freight yards full of old men
And the graveyards of the rusted

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

card with the old men in the club car
Penny a point, ain't no one score
Pass the paper bag holds the bottle
the wheels rumbling 'neath the floor

And the sons of the Pullman
And the of the engineers
Ride their father's carpets made of steel
And the days are full of
And the are full of memories
And the rhythm of the rails is all they

Singing, morning, America, how are you?
Don't you me? I'm your native son
I'm the train they call the of New Orleans
I'll be five hundred miles 'fore the day is done

Well, it's on the city of New Orleans
about your pocketful of friends
Half way home and be there by morning
No tomorrow 'round the bend

Singing, morning, America, how are you?
Don't you know me? I'm your son
I'm the train they call the of New Orleans
I'll be gone hundred miles 'fore the day is done

Singing, night, America, how are you?
you know me? I'm your native son
I'm the train call the city of New Orleans
I'll be gone five hundred miles the day is done