Oh, they say some people long ago
Were searching for a different tune
One that they could croon
As only they can

They only had the rhythm, so
They started swaying to and fro
They didn't know just what to use
That is how the blues
Really began

They heard the breeze in the trees
Singing weird melodies
And they made that
The start of the blues

And from a jail came the wail
Of a down hearted frail
And they played that
As part of the blues

From a whippoorwill out on the hill
They took a new note
(Whippoorwill, whippoorwill, whippoorwill)
Pushed it through a horn till it was worn
Into a blue note
(Whippoorwill, whippoorwill, whippoorwill)

And then they nursed it, and rehearsed it
And gave out the news
That the Southland
Gave birth to the blues

(Shout out the wonderful news!)

Oh, the breeze from the trees
A wail from the jail
A buzz from the cousin of a nightingale
And Southland
Gave birth to the blues.
