My mama done told me, when I was in knee-pants
My mama done told me, son a womanâll sweet talk
And give you the big eye but when the sweet talkinâs done
A womanâs a two-face, a worrisome thing
Whoâll leave you to sing the blues in the night
Now the rainâs a-fallinâ, hear the trainâs a-callin', whooee
My mama done told me hear that lonesome whistle
Blowinâ âcross the trestle, whooee
My mama done told me a-whooee ah-whooee old clickety-clackâs
Echoinâ back the blues in the night [ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/f/frank_sinatra/blues_in_the_night.html ]
The eveninâ breeze will start the trees to cryinâ and the moon
Will hide itâs light when you get the blues in the night
And take my word, the mocking bird will sing the saddest kind of song
He knows things are wrong and heâs so right
From Natchez to Mobile, from Memphis to St. Joe
Wherever the four winds they might blow
I been in some big towns and I heard me some big talk
But there is one thing I know
A womanâs a two-face, a worrisome thing
Who will leave you to sing the blues in the night