Birth of the Blues

They took the breeze from the trees, made them sweet melodies, and they called it

the birth of the blues.

From a jail came a wail

of a down-hearted frail,

and they called it the birth of the blues.

From a whippoorwill high on a hill,

they took a true note,

pushed it through a horn till it was born

into a blue note.

And then they nursed it, rehearsed it, and gave out the news that the south-land gave birth to the blues.

From a whippoorwill high on a hill, they took a true note,

pushed it through a horn till it was born into a blue note. And then they nursed it, rehearsed it, and gave out the news that the south-land, that the

south-land, that the south-land

gave birth to the blues.

I said blues.