Blues For The Weepers

The gay lights of glamor

Are darkened by drama

By the blues that I sing for my theme

All the soft singing sisters

And the torch bearing misters

Who just come to listen and dream

The soft lights are glowing

The champagne is flowing

In each customer's eye there is a gleam

They are the weary and the weepless

The sad-eyed and the sleepless

Who just come ot listen, and to dream

Now the black of the night

Rings of blues in the night

Somehow they both seem to belong

They're the sad eyed and the gay ones

The real hip hooray ones

They hang on to each and every word of my song

For I sing of their drama

Their fast fading glamor

And the blues that I sing is the theme

For the soft singing sisters

And the torch bearing misters

Who just come to listen

And they come to dream

Blues for the weepers

I said the black of the night

Brings the blues in the night

Somehow they seem to belong

And the blues that I sing is a theme

For the soft singing sisters

And the torch bearing misters

Who just come to listen

And they come to dream