Blues (My Naughty Sweetie Gives To Me)

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