Down Drinking at the Bar

Well, I call you up on the phone

Nobody's at home

Then 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

Now here's the romantic part

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 a 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