(Why?, why?, why?) Mama been laid off Papa been laid off Billy can't get a job Don't let them stay home and listen to the blues (Why?, why?) My brother's been laid off For more than two years now Oh, can't get a job

Lady sings the blues She feels so sad Just what the blues is all about She's got them bad Wants the world to know She tells her side Nothing to hide Now the world will now The blues ain't nothing but a pain in your heart

Please come home for Christmas Bells will be ringing this sad sad New Years Oh what a Christmas to have the blues My baby's gone I have no friends To wish me greetings once again Choirs will be singing Silent Night Christmas carols by candlelight If not

They call it stormy Monday, but Tuesday's just as bad Wednesday's worse, and Thursday's also sad Yes the eagle flies on Friday, and Saturday I go out to play Eagle flies on Friday, and Saturday I go out to play Sunday I go to church, then I kneel down

Mama been laid off Papa been laid off Billy can't get a job Don't let them stay home and listen to the blues My brother's been laid off For more than two years now Ooh can't get a job Ooh they gotta listen to the blues Help them to strive

Why don't you catch my pony, now saddle up my black mare? ...my pony, saddle up, up my black mare? You know, I'm gonna find my baby, well, in the world somewhere You know, he's a travelin' horse, an' he's too black bad He's a travelin' pony, I declare,

He's just a singer, a natural born guitar ringer Kind of a clinger to sad old songs He's not a walk-behinder, he's a new note finder But his name's a reminder Of a blues man that's already gone So he started drinkin', took some things that messed up his

They're all blues All shades, all hues, all blues The sea, the sky, the you and I The sea, the sky, for you and I I'll know we're all blues All Shades, all hues, all blues Some blues are sad But some are glad, Dark-sad or bright-gald

Oh whata' groomy day in Newport'verything is sad, sad, sad Yes what a groomy day in Newport everything is sad, sad. You know it's a groomy day in Newport One awhile a time to have a hand What gonna happened to my music What gonna happened to the song Bis

He's just a singer, a natural born guitar ringer Kind of a clinger to sad old songs He's not a walk-behinder, he's a new note finder But his name's a reminder Of a blues man that's already gone So he started drinkin', took some things that messed up his