Buckwheat Zydeco The Midnight Special
[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
