House of the Rising Sun - alt-J, Tuka

There is a house in New Orleans

They call the Rising Sun

And it’s been the ruin of many poor soul

And, Lord, my father’s one

My mother, she’s a tailor

She sews those new blue jeans

To keep my gambling father drunk

Deep down in New Orleans

It’s a happy happy happy happy fun day day

Like a bird flying over forest fire

My father feels the heat beneath his wings

And in debt he leaves for another town

Where he gambles and, drunk, he still drinks

My mother hides from pleasure

And thinks of Father on her knees

Lifted in the arms of God

Away from New Orleans

Happy happy happy happy fun day day

Happy happy happy happy fun day day