The House of Blue Lights

The House of Blue Lights - Ella Mae Morse/His Buddies/His Orchestra

Well wha-ah-ahtcha say Baby

You look ready as Mr Freddie this black

How 'bout you an' me goin' spinnin' at the track

What's that Homey

If you think I'm goin' dancin' on a dime

Your clock is tickin' on the wrong time

Well what's your pleasure Treasure

You call the plays I'll dig the ways

Hey Daddio

I'm not so crude as to drop my mood

On a square 1 from way back

I'm in there and have to dig life with Father

And I mean Father Slack 2

Well Baby your play gives my wig a solid flip

You snap the whip I'll make the trip

Well lace up your boots and we'll broom on down

To a knocked-out shack on the edge of town

There's an eight-beat combo that just won't quit

Keep walkin' till you see a blue light lit

Fall in there and we'll see some sights

At the House of Blue Lights

There's fryers and broilers

And Detroit barbecue ribs

But the treat of the treats

Is when they serve you those fine eight beats

You'll want to spend the rest of your brights

Down at the House the House of Blue Lights

Ey we'll have a time and we'll cut some rug

While we dig those tunes like they should be dug

It's a real homecomin' for all those cats

Just trilly down a path of welcome mats

Fall in there and we'll see some sights

At the House the House of Blue Lights