CCR live | Fogerty live | Leadbelly | Odetta
Well, you wake up in the morning
You hear the work bell ring
And they march you to the table
To see the same old thing

Ain't no food upon the table
And no pork up in the pan
But you better not complain, boy
You get in trouble with the man

Let the midnight special ~ Shine a 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 governor | She want to free her man

If you're ever in Houston, | Well you'd better do the right
You'd better not gamble | And you better not fight (at all)
Or the sheriff will grab you | And the boys will bring you down
The next thing you know boy, | Well you're prison bound

When I was a little bitty baby | My mama would rock me in the cradle,
In them old cotton fields back home;

It was down in Louisiana, | Just about a mile from Texarkana,
In them old cotton fields back home.

Oh, when them cotton bolls get rotten | You can't pick very much cotton,
In them old cotton fields back home.