Well, you wake up in the morning, hear the dingdong a rigarigaringin
Ya go marchin' to the table, ya see the same old things,
All on one table, knife, a fork and a pan,
And it ya say a thing about it, you're in trouble with the man.
Oh, let the Midnight Special shine her light on me,
Let the Midnight Special shine her ever-lovin' light on me.
Oh, if you ever go to Houston, oh, man, ya better walk right,
Ya better not stagger, Lord knows, you'd better not fight.
Sheriff he'll arrest you, he'll carry ya down,
And if the jury finds ya guilty, you're penitentiary boun'.
"O yonder comes Miss Rosie!" "How in the world do ya know?"
"Well, I knowed her by her apron and the dress she wore,
Umbrella on her shoulder, a piece of paper in her han'.
She goes a-walkin' to the captain, said, 'Turn loose my man!'"
Well, I'm goin'-a leave you, and my time ain't long,
I'll be done wi' my grievin' and my great long song.