Rick Steele Wrote:
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> Sorry SP,
>
> Steve Goodman did the song in many versions and
> when he sang the song, he sang what he wrote.
>
> The correct verse is actually:
>
> "ride their father's magic carpet made of steam"
>
> NOT steel
>
> It rhymes with "Dream" in the next sentence of the
> stanza.
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Not so fast there, Rick-o ...
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"Riding on the City Of New Orleans
Illinois Central, Monday morning rail
Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders
Three Conductors; twenty-five sacks of mail
All along the southbound odyssey - the train pulls out of Kankakee
And rolls along past houses, farms, and fields
Passing trains that have no name, and freight yards full of old black men
And the graveyards of the rusted automobile
Good morning, America, how are you?
Say, 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
Dealing card games with the old man in the Club Car
Penny a point - ain't no one keeping score
As the paper bag that holds the bottle
Feel the wheels rumbling 'neath the floor
And the sons of Pullman Porters, and the sons of Engineers
Ride their father's magic carpets made of steel
Mothers with their babes asleep rocking to the gentle beat
And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel ...."