Blues, Twentieth-century blues, they're gettin' me down. Blues, escape those weary twentieth-century blues. Why, if there's a god in the sky, why shouldn't he grin High above this dreary twentieth-century din?
In this strange illusion, chaos and confusion, People seem to lose their way. What is there to strive for, love or keep alive for? Say hey hey, call it a day.
Blues, nothing to win or to lose, it's getting me down. Blues, escape those weary twentieth-century blues.
Why is it that civilized humanity can make this world so wrong? In this hurly-burly of insanity, our dreams cannot last long. We've reached a deadline, a press headline, every sorrow; Blues value is news value tomorrow.