The Blue Room
-- by Chet Baker
We'll have a blue room,
A new room, for two room.
Where every day's a holiday,
Because you're married to me . . .
Not like a ball room,
A small room, a hall room,
Where I can smoke my pipe away,
With your wee head upon my knee . . .
We will thrive on, keep alive on,
Just nothing but kisses,
With mister and missus,
Own little blue chairs . . .
You sew your trousseau,
and Robinson Crusoe,
Is not so far from worldly cares,
As our blue room, far away upstairs . . .
_blue_room.wma
