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.