What is that song about kisses
What is that song about smiles
If I could have my way, I’d sing a song today
That would beat them all by miles
I wouldn’t sing about smiling
That’s not the title I’d choose
I would sing about what I’ve got
And what I’ve got’s the weary blues

There are blues that you get from worry
There are blues that you get from pain
And there are blues when you’re lonely
For your one and only
The blues you can never explain
There are blues that you get from longing
But the bluest blues that be
Are the sort of blues that’s on my mind
And they’re the very meanest kind
The blues my naughty sweetie gives to me

There are blues you get from 'wimmin'
When you see them goin' swim
And you haven't got a bathing suit yourself

There are blues you get much quicker
When you hide a lot of licker
And somebody goes and takes it off the shelf

There are blues you get from waiting on dock
And wandering if the boat is goin' to rock
There are blues that come from getting in a taxicab
And fretting ev'ry time it hit a bump and jump the clock

There are blues you get from trying hard to save some guy from dying
He afterwards forget you in his will
There are blues much worse than this is when you're walkin'
With the missus and some chorus lady shouts: Hello there, bill!

But the blues that make me hot and cold and make me shake and shiver
And make me want to end it all the river
Are the blues my naughty sweetie gives to
And they're the very, very meanest kind of blues
Bluest blues