My mama done tol' me, when I was in kneepants,
My mama done tol' me, "Son,
A woman'll sweet talk, and give ya the big eye,
But when the sweet talkin's done,
A woman's a two-face, a worrisome thing who'll leave ya t' sing
The blues in the night."
Now the rain's a-fallin', hear the train a-callin',
"Whoo-ee." (My mama done tol' me,)
Hear that lonesome whistle blowin' 'cross the trestle,
"Whoo-ee." (My mama done tol' me.)
A whoo-ee-duh whoo-ee,
Ol' clickety clack's a-echoin' back the blues in the night.
The evening breeze'll start the trees to cryin'
And the moon'll hide it's light when you get the blues in the night;
Take my word, the mockingbird'll sing the saddest kind of song,
He knows things are wrong, and he's right.
From Natchez to Mobile, from Memphis to Saint Joe,
Oooo - oooo - oooo, oooo - oooo - oooo,
My mama was right, there's blues in the night.