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 th night
Rings of blues in the night
Somehow thy 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