It was 88 when I woke up, made a pot and poured a cup
Looked around I couldn't see outside, windows fogged up on the inside
Tom T. Hall wrote the song, it sure can get cold in Des Moines
But he was never here in July, with the humidity blues
The Heat Index says 109, the weatherman said stay inside
But load-in starts right at 5, the stage is set and it's outside
This ain't Phoenix where the heat is dry, sweat just pourin' in your eyes
You're on stage and you just might die, from the humidity blues
By 9 o'clock, I've lost ten pounds, feel like I just went 15 rounds
Some smellin salt might bring me around, the drummer's passed out on the ground
My fingers stuck here on these frets, outdoor shows come with regrets
My guitar is starting to cry, from the humidity blues
(c) O'Connor