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 even 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 morning
That's the time
You miss her most
Of all

When your lonely heart
Has learned its lesson
You'd be hers if only
She would call
And in the wee small hours
Of the morning
That's the time
You missed her most
Of all