There is a house in New Orleans,
they call The Rising Sun.
And it`s been the ruin for many a poor girl,
and me, oh God, for one.
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 I have done,
but shun that house in New Orleans,
they call the Rising Sun.
I was at boarding school in a suburb of Reading – established for the daughters of impoverished clergymen. At the beginning and end of every term we passed that town’s ‘The House of the Rising Sun‘ in travelling to and from the railway station. How we longed to have a wicked past – ‘It’s been a ruin for many a poor girl, and I, O Lord, am one’, we sang lustily. We couldn’t wait… 🙂