| Oh! |
| they say some people long ago
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| Were searching 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 They started swaying to and fro.
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| They didn’t know just what they had
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| And that is how the blues really began:
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| They heard the breeze in the trees
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| Singing 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 a 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 out on a hill,
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| They took a new note,
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| Pushed it through a horn
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| 'til it was born into a blue note.
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| And then they nursed it, 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! |