Well, you wake up in the mornin', you hear the work bell ring , And they march you to the
table to see the same old thing Ain't no food upon the table, and no pork up in the pan
But you better not complain, boy, you get in trouble with the man
* Let the Midnight Special shine a light on me, Let the Midnight Special shine a light on
me, Let the Midnight Special shine a light on me, Let the Midnight Special shine a
everlovin' light on me.
Yonder come miss Rosie, how in the world did you know By the way she wears her apron,
and the clothes she wore Umbrella on her shoulder, piece of paper in her hand She come to
see the gov'nor, she wants to free her man
( * )
If you're ever in Houston, well, you better do the right You better not gamble, there, you
better not fight, at all Or the sheriff will grab ya and the boys will bring you down.
The next thing you know, boy, Oh! You're prison bound.
( * / * )