My Baby Only Sings the Blues
She feels that happiness is a state of mind
Obscenely temporary and unjustly derived
I try a different melody, but she can't find the tune
'Cause my baby only sings the blues
Her emotion's a bloodstain on a clean, white sleeve
And she never hesitates to say what she means
I hang on every insight, but her wisdom is askew
Oh, my baby only sings the blues
Yet, she somehow alleviates confusion
With cynical, paradigm illusions
But, oh, when she smiles
She could light up a labyrinth
You'd be a fool to think her love isn't heaven-sent
As she's writing poetry for the bitter man
She tells me she loves me... I won't ever understand
I tell her that I love her, but she won't find me true
'Cause my baby, my baby, my baby
That little girl only sings the blues
Autor(es): Jeff Straw