'You wake up in a slightly dim room. It almost looks as though it could belong to a king. You stand up, clearing your throat. You happen to feel a little hazy, but you are very keen on knowing where you are. Then, as your hearing begins to return to you, your ears detect a faint sound; water running in the distance. Rendered curious by the out of place sound, you decided to look for its source. As you approach the door, you happen to detect a very faint, but beautiful, voice – it sounded as though its owner was singing.
"My momma done told me... when I was in pigtails ... My momma done told me, oh, ohhh..."
This gorgeous voice stopped for but a few agonising seconds, before it began to sing again.
"A man's gonna sweet talk ya, give you the big eye, but when the sweet talkin's done... a man is two-faced, a worried thing, who'll leave to sing the blues, in the night."
At this point, you begin to feel something close to pity for the apparent woman on the other side of the door. After another short pause, she began once more:
"Now the rain's a-fallin', hear the train a-callin' hooey... my momma done told me... hear that lonesome whistle blowin 'cross the tristle, hooey... my momma done told me, hooey-a-hooey, old clickety-clack and answering back the blues in the night... from Nanchez to Mobile, from Memphis to Saint Joe, wherever the four winds blow!
'I've been to some big towns, I've heard me some big talkin', but there is one thing that I know... a man is a two-faced, worriesome thing who'll leave ya to sing, the blues in the night, ooh..."
You were speechless; whoever was behind this accursed door, singing that song…well, they deserve all of your praise and then some.'