Oh, the train pulled into New Orleans and I made my way downtown,
Where saints and sinners chance to meet; what they call the neutral ground,
Met a girl on the Rue Royal; she turned my head around,
Swirling like the mist that creeps along the neutral ground, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Well, she led me to the riverside and slipped her hand in mine,
I held on to a treasure like I never dreamed I’d find,
The band was playing Dixieland – oh, how I loved that sound,
We stood and kissed; the streetcars rumbled up the neutral ground, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Well, I quit my job – I swear I never liked it anyway,
Working up in Illinois for a lowly salesman’s pay,
Now I’m back New Orleans and making all the rounds,
Searching for the girl I left down on the neutral ground, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Every night’s a party here; every day it rains,
And weeks and months stretch longer than the bridge ‘cross Pontchartrain,
I walk my feet on narrow streets that wind their way downtown,
Where saints and sinners chance to meet upon the neutral ground,
Where saints and sinners chance to meet upon the neutral ground.
