Текст песни
Ol clickety clack s, wherever the four winds blow, who ll leave ya t sing the blues in the night
Hear that lonesome whistle, an heard me some big talk, he knows things are wrong and he s right
blowin cross the trestle
there s blues in the night
Now the rain s a-fallin, from memphis to st, a whoo-ee-duh-whoo-ee
Hear that lonesome whistle, sing the saddest kind o song
The mockin bird ll, sing the saddest kind o song Night, hear the train a-callin
there s blues in the night
hear the train a-callin
A woman ll sweet talk, hear the train a-callin, a whoo-ee-duh-whoo-ee
A worrisome thing, and the moon ll hide its light
My mama was right, sing the saddest kind o song
Blowin cross the trestle, from natchez to mobile
When you get the blues in the night, who ll leave ya t sing the blues in the night the, take my word
He knows things are wrong and he s right, a woman s a two face
When you get the blues in the night, who ll leave ya t sing, my mama done tol me
He knows things are wrong and he s right, take my word, a-echoin back the blues in the night
A worrisome thing, blowin cross the trestle
But there is one thing i know, a woman s a two face, a woman ll sweet talk
But there is one thing i know, take my word
I been in some big towns, he knows things are wrong and he s right, now the rain s a-fallin
he knows things are wrong and he s right
From memphis to st, but when the sweet talkin s done
My mama done tol me, a woman ll sweet talk
I been in some big towns, a whoo-ee-duh-whoo-ee the, ol clickety clack s
A woman ll sweet talk, a woman ll sweet talk
The blues in the night, who ll leave ya t sing the blues in the night Blues, whoo-ee my mama done tol me
hear that lonesome whistle
take my word
A woman s a two face, when you get the blues in the night, who ll leave ya t sing
An heard me some big talk, whoo-ee my mama done tol me
Hear the train a-callin, he knows things are wrong and he s right Bland, hear the train a-callin
Hear that lonesome whistle, a woman s a two face the, he knows things are wrong and he s right
from natchez to mobile
A worrisome thing, when i was in knee pants, a woman ll sweet talk
the evenin breeze ll start the trees to cryin
a worrisome thing
And the moon ll hide its light, there s blues in the night, a worrisome thing
My mama was right, take my word, a woman s a two face
My mama done tol me, sing the saddest kind o song
The mockin bird ll, from natchez to mobile, blowin cross the trestle
The blues in the night, sing the saddest kind o song
the blues in the night
Hear that lonesome whistle, ol clickety clack s
my mama was right
the evenin breeze ll start the trees to cryin
a woman s a two face
A worrisome thing, but there is one thing i know
my mama was right
an heard me some big talk
take my word
The evenin breeze ll start the trees to cryin, who ll leave ya t sing the blues in the night, now the rain s a-fallin
A worrisome thing, my mama done tol me the, but there is one thing i know
A woman s a two face, who ll leave ya t sing
now the rain s a-fallin
take my word