|
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 |
|
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 |
|
Let the Midnight Special shine a light on me |
|
Let the Midnight Special shine a everlovin' light on me |
|
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 |
|
Let the Midnight Special shine a light on me |
|
Let the Midnight Special shine a everlovin' light on me |
|
Let the Midnight Special shine a light on me |
|
Let the Midnight Special shine a everlovin' light on me. |