[1] Well, you wake up in the mornin'[4], You hear the 

work bell ring[1] 

And they march you to the table[5-7], You see the same 

old thing[1] 



Ain't no food upon the table[4], And no pork up in the 

pan[1] 

But you'd better not complain, boy[5-7], You'll get in 

trouble with the [1]man 



CHORUS: 

Let the midnight [4]special, Shine the light on [1]me 

Let the midnight [5-7]special, Shine the light on [1]me 



Let the midnight [4]special, Shine the light on [1]me 

Let the midnight [5-7]special, Shine the ever-lovin' 

[1]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 wanna free her man 

(chorus) 



If you're ever in Houston, Ooh, you'd better do right 

You'd better not gamble, And you'd better not fight 



Or the sheriff will grab ya, And the boys'll bring you 

down 

The next thing you know, boy, Ooh, you're prison-bound