They heard the breeze in the trees

They heard the breeze in the trees
Singing weird melodies
And they made that
The start of the blues.
And from jail came a wail
Of a down-hearted frail
And they played that
As part of the blues.
From a whip-poor-will
Out on a hill
They took a new note,
Pushed it through a horn
'Till it was worn
Into a blue note!
And then they nursed it,
Rehearsed it,
And gave out the news
That the Southland
Gave birth to the blues.

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