Room 57 in the midnight hour,
I'm fresh out of coffee and the cream turned sour.
I'm thinkin' 'bout the people I've been talkin' to,
Been here a long time and nobody knew.
Ain't it shame, ain't it a pity, the bluebird's gone from the windy city.
What a shame, what a shame,
What a shame, what a shame.
Good music on the radio,
A whole lotta people don't want to know.
They say that black is black and white is white,
You can't cross over 'cause it don't seem right.