Luyện nghe bài hát City of New Orleans

Riding on the city of New
Illinois Central, Monday rail
Fifteen cars and fifteen restless
conductors and twenty five sacks of mail

They're out on the southbound
pulls out of Kankakee
Rolls past houses, farms and fields
Passing towns that no names
Freight yards of old gray men
And the graveyards of the automobiles

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

Dealing card the old men in the club car
Penny a point, ain't no one keeping
Pass the bag that holds the bottle
Feel the wheels 'neath the floor

And the of the Pullman porters
And the of the engineers
Ride their father's carpets made of steel
And the days are of restless
And the dreams are of memories
And the rhythm of the is all they feel

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

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

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 'fore the day is done

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