Lyrics
In the wee small hours of the morning
While the whole wide world is fast asleep
You lie awake and think about the boy
And never ever think of counting sheep
When your lonely heart has learned its lesson
You'd be his if only he would call
In the wee small hours of the morning
That's the time you miss him most of all

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Writer(s): Bob Hilliard, David Mann




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