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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 |
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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! |
