Luyện nghe bài hát City of New Orleans

Riding on the city of New
Illinois Central, morning rail
cars and fifteen restless riders
Three conductors and five sacks of mail

They're out on the southbound
Train pulls out of
Rolls along past houses, and fields
Passing towns that have no
Freight yards of old gray men
And the of the rusted automobiles

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

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

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

Singing, Good morning, America, how are
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 'fore the day is done

Well, twilight on the city of New Orleans
Talk your pocketful of friends
Half way home and be there by morning
No tomorrow waiting the bend

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