My City Of Ruins

But it's twilight on the city of New Orleans, talk about a pocket full of friends. Halfway home and we'll be there by morning. With no tomorrow waiting 'round the bend. Singing good night, America, I love you. Saying, don't you know me, I'm your native son? I'm the train they call "The City of New Orleans". I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done.