The saxophone across the hall screams for harmony
Another voice, a counterpoint, some company.
Sing those blues, lonely saxophone.
I’ll try to give you what you need.
Sing those blues, lonely saxophone.
I’ll try to give you what you need.

The derelict flags down the cars on the bowery
With a dirty rag in his paper bag for company, oh
Sing those blues, brother down and out.
I’ll ty to give you what you need.
Sing those blues, brother down and out.
I’ll try to give you what you need.

If you tell yourself you’re satisfied,
then nothing better will be found
But when it grows so dark, that you howl for the moon, well at least it gets your eye up off the ground

Love, I don’t need my windshield cleaned,
You can have it all for free.
Another voice, a counterpoint, some company.
But, sing those blues, will you anyway
‘Cause I can’t give you what you need.
Oh will you sing those blues with me?
Take my hand, and we’ll go look for what we need.

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