She sang the blues, but I could play the [bad word] She made the tune, and everybody loved it
She’d count to three, I wasn’t even done yet

She sang the blues, but I could play the [bad word] She made the tune, and everybody loved it
She’d count to three, I wasn’t even done yet
She fell asleep when she died at sunset

50 years and not a day of regret
It was here, at the show, that I’d say we first met.
You were workin at the bar, I was playin in the band.
We were starting in an hour, and the singer couldn’t stand

- but you knew all the words to our songs
every jazz standard, and the ballads all along
and the last answer that we heard was applause
you’re a bad dancer for a girl without flaws, but

- we were signed by the end of the concert
opening for Chet, Tony, and Frank Sinatra
- living the dream, and you winked from behind
and I closed my eyes every time that you cried cause

- it was a gift for the voice of a goddess
even when I would sit by your bed in the hospice
- and we watched the lonely sun go down

sayin, “what’s that sound?” I said, “baby it’s the crowd.”

She sang the blues, but I could play the [bad word] She made the tune, and everybody loved it
She’d count to three, I wasn’t even done yet
She fell asleep when she died at sunset

She sang the blues, but I could play the [bad word] She made the tune, and everybody loved it
She’d count to three, I wasn’t even done yet
She fell asleep when she died at sunset

- and we played, even at the wedding day
reunite on the stage, we were old and grey
went across the continent, traveled on the airwaves
everybody knew her name, wrote a book, closed the page

- and they had offered her a solo project but
she would never sign, cause I [bad word] with
though I told her it was fine, I would follow all her steps
but she chose to stay behind, not the [bad word] 
- now the kids reminisce in the photographs
proud that — she could take the world with another hand
holding hers, try to beat the rhythm of her heart
but it wasn’t any good, it was the end of the song

She sang the blues, but I could play the [bad word] She made the tune, then I would say I loved it
She’d count to three, I wasn’t even done yet
She fell asleep when she died at sunset