Well, you wake up in the mornin,
you hear the big bell ring,
You go marchin to the table,
see the same damned thing.
Knife and fork upon the table,
nothing in the pan.
If you say a thing about it,
you're in trouble with the man.
Let the midnight special
shine its light on me,
Let the midnight special shine
its 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.
Let the midnight special ...