martes, 29 de diciembre de 2009

Music: Leadbelly - The Midnight Special - Lyrics






Yonder come Miss Rosie, how in the world do you know
Well I know by the apron and the dress she wore
Well an umbrella on her shoulder, piece of paper in her hand
Well I'm gonna ask the governor, he turn a-lose a-my man

Let the midnight special, shine the light on me
Let the midnight special, shine the ever-lovin' light on me

When you get up in the mornin', when that big bell ring
You go and march to the table, see the same damn thing
Knife and fork are on the table, there's nothin' in my pan
And if you say anything about it, havin' trouble with the man

Well I went to the nation and to the territo(ry)
Well I thought about the girl I love, in that Mexico

If you ever go to Houston, oh you better walk right
And you better not squallow and you better not fight
Sheriff Rocko will arrest you, Eddie Boone will take you down
You can bet your bottom dollar, penitentiary bound

Well jumpin' little Judy, she was a mighty fine girl
Well Judy brought jumpin' to this whole round world
Well she brought it in the mornin', just a while before day
She brought me the news, that my wife was dead
That started me to grievin', then hollerin' and a-cryin'
Then I had to give the worry about a been a long time

another one:

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

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
I 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

3 comentarios:

  1. Que lindo sos..... (en Maracaibo, una ciudad de mi país ...dirían: Que lindo sois...)............provoca mover el esqueleto... !

    No importa si estamos tristes...mover...mover el esqueleto...solos...¿que importa?...jejejeeee...muauuuu

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