When the sun is high in the afternoon sky,
You can always find something to do;
But from dusk til dawn, as the clock ticks on,
Something happens to you.
In the wee small hours of the morning
While the whole wide world is fast asleep
You lie awake and think about the girl
And never ever think of counting sheep
When your lonely heart has learned its lesson
You'd be hers if only she would call
In the wee small hours of the mor-ning
That's the time you miss her most of all.