| My mama done tol' me, when I was in knee-pants
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| My mama done tol' me, «Son a woman’ll sweet talk»
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| And give you the big eye, but when the sweet talkin’s done
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| A woman’s a two-face, A worrisome thing who’ll leave you singing the blues in the night
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| Now the rain’s a-fallin', hear the train’s a-callin, «Whooee!»
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| (My mama done tol' me) Hear that lonesome whistle blowin' 'cross the trestle, «Whooee!»
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| (My mama done tol' me) A-whooee-ah-whooee ol' clickety-clack's a-echoin' back
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| the blues in the night
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| The evenin' breeze’ll start the trees to cryin' and the moon’ll hide its light
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| when you get the blues in the night
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| Boy, take my word, the mockingbird’ll sing the saddest kind o' song,
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| he knows things are wrong, and he’s right
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| From Natchez to Mobile,
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| From Memphis to St. Joe,
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| Wherever the four winds blow
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| I been in some big towns an' heard me some big talk,
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| But there is one thing I know
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| A woman’s a two-face,
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| A worrisome thing who’ll leave you singing the blues in the night
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| My mama was right, there’s blues in the night. |