Free Me At Last From These Blues

Blue smoky lights in this bar room tonight
Thinking, I ought to be home.
Down on my luck, and down to a buck
Oh why, did I choose to roam.

Blue as the cold in November
Blue as the cold, crystal snow
Show mercy Oh Lord, to your servants soul
And teach me the right things to do
To free me at last from these blues

From hard life’s back door, I fell a little more
And bottom is up hill to me
I just want to know, some place to go
From blues that keep hold of me