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Ohh, they say some people long ago |
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Were searchin' for a diff'rent tune |
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One that they could croon |
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As only they can |
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They only had the rhythm, so |
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They started swayin' to and fro |
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They didn't know just what to use |
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That is how the blues really began |
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They heard the breeze in the trees |
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Singin' weird melodies |
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And they made that |
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The start of the blues |
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And from a jail, came the wail |
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Of the down-hearted frail |
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And they played that |
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As part of the blues |
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From a whippoorwill |
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Out on the hill |
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They took a new note |
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(Whippoorwill, whippoorwill, whippoorwill) |
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Pushed it through a horn |
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'Til it was worn |
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Into a blue note |
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(Whippoorwill, whippoorwill, whippoorwill) |
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An' then they nursed it and rehearsed it |
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And gave out the news |
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That the 'Southland' |
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Gave birth to the blues |
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(Shout out the wonderful news) |
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Oh, the breeze from the trees |
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Wail from the jail |
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A buzz from the cousin |
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Of a nightin'gale |
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And 'Southland' |
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(Hello, hello) |
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Gave birth to the blues |
