Sentenced

There is a house in New Orleans,
They call the "Rising Sun",
It's been the ruin of many a poor boy,
And God, I know, I'm one.
My mother was a tailor,
She sewed those new blue jeans,
my father he's a gambling man,
drinks down in New Orleans.
Now the only thing a gambler needs,
Is a suitcase and a drink,
The only time, you keep him satisfied, is when
He's all drunk.