Luyện nghe bài hát City of New Orleans

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

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

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 five hundred miles when the day is

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

And the of the Pullman porters
And the of the engineers
Ride their father's magic carpets made of
And the days are full of
And the dreams are of memories
And the of the rails is all they feel

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

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

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

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