"Blues at Midnight" — the blues man at the hour that owns the tradition.
When that midnight hour went chiming,
I was in my room alone
Yes, when that midnight hour went chiming,
I was in my room alone
Yes, and when I came home this evening,
I found my baby gone
Oh, I laid my head on my pillow,
I gazed up at the stars up above
Yes, I laid my head on my pillow,
yes, lookin' up at the stars above
I tell you it's a miserable feeling,
oh, when you lose the one you love
Oh, I get the blues at midnight,
oh there's one thing I can't describe
Oh, I get the blues at midnight,
oh there's one thing I can't describe
Yes, and when you look at your baby's picture
oh, the tears will come from your eyes
Знаете ли вы, что...
- A B.B. King recording. Midnight — the blues hour, the crossroads time — is when the tradition's characteristic combination of beauty and despair is most naturally felt.