A-whooee-ah-whooee ol' clickety-clack's a-echoin' back th' blues in the night
The evenin' breeze'll start the trees to cryin'
And the moon'll hide its light when you get the blues in the night
Take my word, the mockingbird'll sing the saddest kind o' song,
He knows things are wrong, and he's right
From Natchez to Mobile, from Memphis to St. Joe, wherever the four winds blow
I been in some big towns an' heard me some big talk, but there is one thing I know
A woman's a two-face, a worrisome thing who'll leave ya to sing the blues in the night
My mama was right, there's blues in the night.