You gon' fuck around and leave 'em ruined like that RattPack the gang, they all on my back Old girl wanna fuck me, yeah she fine I'ma give her that D Out with the homies, I be Sippin' on somethin', oh shit, I might need an IV Permanently, permanently

It begins to tell, 'round midnight, midnight. I do pretty well, till after sundown, Suppertime I'm feelin' sad; But it really gets bad, 'round midnight. Memories always start 'round midnight Haven't got the heart to stand those memories, When my heart is

'Round midnight, midnight It begins to tell I do pretty well, till after sundown Suppertime I'm feelin' sad But it really gets bad 'Round midnight Memories always start 'round midnight Haven't got the heart to stand those memories When my heart is still

By the midnight hour Lay it down, lay it down Lookin' 'round for a feelin' I love the rhythm and blues The place was rockin' and reelin' I thought I'd shake me loose The band was pumpin' Motown Lord how they could play The girls a-started singing

'Round midnight, midnight It begins to tell I do pretty well, till after sundown Suppertime I'm feelin' sad But it really gets bad 'Round midnight Memories always start 'round midnight Haven't got the heart to stand those memories When my heart is still

'Round midnight, midnight It begins to tell I do pretty well, till after sundown Suppertime I'm feelin' sad But it really gets bad 'Round midnight Memories always start 'round midnight Haven't got the heart to stand those memories When my heart is still

Then we slide into the arms of someone else Yeah, we slide into the arms of someone else In disguise, we get a little better at controlling ourselves around midnight Nobody wants to, nobody wants to From the hot strobe lights and the spiked punch bliss

Pick a bale of cotton Pick a bale a day Let the midnight special Gonna jump down, spin around, pick a bale of cotton Gonna jump down, spin around, pick a bale a day I said me and my buddy gonna pick a bale of cotton Now me and my buddy gonna pick a bale

Oh, these three worn words Of tourists in Verona I just want to love you in my own language There was a wayward lad Stepped out one morning The ground to be his bed The sky his awning Neon, neon, neon A blue neon lamp in a midnight country field

You're gonna need somebody on your bond Tellin' everybody they're gonna need somebody on their bond You're gonna need somebody on your bond child When it's late 'round midnight and old man Death comes slippin' into the room You take Mary and Martha