When I come home at night I find him sitting there

Looking at the paper in my favorite chair

He's drinking up my coffee wearing my house shoes

He's the fellow they call Mr Blues

Since you went away he's been living here with me

Wish that he'd go home wherever that may be

I don't mean to be unkind but he's got nothing I can use

So won't you come on back sweetheart and run off Mr Blues

[ guitar ]

Now when I go to bed into my room he creeps

Repeating all the gossip he's picked up on the street

All through the night he tells me that things they say you do

He knows that I still love you and I hate this kind of news

But since you went away...