Can Blue Men Sing The Whites

I was lying in my bed, pull the silken sheets up tight
I gotta keep me strength up, gotta do a show tonight.
I have a sip of coffee while I’m taking in the news,
Don’t need to have a shave 'cause I gotta sing the blues
(Spoken) Not yet, man.
Then I think I’ll get a massage, maybe, lose a little fat,
So I have to go downtown in my brand-new Cadillac,
My valet comes and dresses me, I light a big cigar,
Cos' I like to look like Nimrod when I’m riding in my car.
Can blue men sing the whites?
Or are they hypocrites for singing: Whooo ooo oooH,
And now it’s getting near the time I gotta make the scene,
I change out my dark-grey mohair suit, pull on my dirty jeans,
The band comes round to pick me up, I holler: «Hello boys,
I gotta mess my hair up and gotta make some noise.»
Can blue men sing the whites?
Or are they hypocrites for singing: Whooo ooo oooH,
Ladies and gentlemen, we’d like to do you a little number now that’s been very
lucky for us from during the depression when everybody was very depressed.
O Lordy,
In dem cotton fields,
O Mama,
I mean it
Somebody help me,
Tell me like it was,
Bugga-boo, buggaaah-whoo-oo