<> page <Attempted Mustache> album page |
Down Drinking At The BarWell, I call you up on the phone: nobody's at homeThen I do my usual thing: I let the telephone ring and ring and ring I'm standing at a phone booth, coping with the ugly truth You see, I know where you are... I know where you are You're down drinking at the bar I can picture you there on that stool, drinking like a drunken fool Yeah, you're sitting there on your ass, muttering into your glass Paying for your lowlife thrills with wet quarters and soggy one dollar bills I know where you are, baby You're down drinking at the bar Dean Martin's on the jukebox, I bet Or maybe it's Tammy Wynette The tearjerkers are jerking your tears Salt water in your whiskey and your beers You've got the Miller High Life bouncing balls You've got the Utica Club waterfalls I know where you are, oh ho You're down at the bar You're down at the bar Go ahead get drunk, it's alright Lost weekend on a Tuesday night But I'm going to have to give you the score I'm not going to call you up on the telephone no more I'm sick and tired of listening to that phone ring 15 times I'm sick and tired of getting back my dimes Because I know what you are You're at sot, that's what you are I know what you are You're a lush You got a big red nose I know where you are, baby I know where you are You're down drinking at the bar |