House of the rising sun

There is a house in New Orleans,
They call the rising sun.
It`s been the ruin for many a poor girl, and me, oh Lord, I`m one.
My mother was a taylor, she sewed our new blue jeans,
My father was a gambling man, down in New Orleans.
If I had listened to what my mother said,
I`d have been at home today,
But I was young and foolish, oh, God, let a rambler lead me astray.
Go tell my baby sister:
"Don't do what have done,
But they shut the house in New Orleans,
They call the rising sun
I`m going back to New Orleans, my race is almost run,
I`m going back to spend my life beneath the rising sun