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.

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