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