When the sweet talkin's done, a man is a two face, a worrisome thing who'll leave you to sing the blues in the night.

You must have been a beautiful baby, 'Cos baby just look at you now.

Day in, day out. That same old voodoo follows me about.

When the sweet talkin's done, a man is a two face, a worrisome thing who'll leave you to sing the blues in the night.

That old black magic has me in its spell, That old black magic that you weave so well; Icy fingers up and down my spine, The same old witchcraft when your eyes meet mine.

It takes more talent to write music, but it takes more courage to write lyrics.

Skylark Have you anything to say to me? Won't you tell me where my love can be?