| Lyrics: | Well you wake up in the morning.
Hear the ding dong ring,
You go a-marching to the
table,
See the same damn thing;
Well, it's on a one table,
Knife, a fork and a
pan,
And if you say anything about it,
You're in trouble with the man.
cho: Let the
midnight special
Shine her light on me;
Let the midnight special
Shine her ever-loving
light on me.
If you ever go to Houston.
You better walk right;
You better not
stagger,
You better not fight;
Sheriff Benson will arrest you,
He'll carry you
down,
And if the jury finds you guilty,
Penitentiary bound.
Yonder come little
Rosie,
How in the world do you know,
l can tell her by her apron,
And the dress she
wore.
Umbrella on her shoulder,
Piece of paper in her hand,
She goes a-marching to the
captain,
Says, "I want my man."
"I don' believe that Rosie loves me"
"Well tell me
why"
She ain't been to see me
Since las' July.
She brought me little coffee
She
brought me little tea
Brought me damn near ever'thing
But the jailhouse key.
Yonder
comes Doctor Adams
"How in the world do you know?"
Well he gave me a tablet
The day
befo'
There ain't no doctor
In all the lan'
Can cure the fever
Of a convict man. |