Well, I call you up on the phone Nobodys at home Then I do my usual thing I let the telephone ring and ring and ring Im standing at a phone booth Coping with the ugly truth You see, I know where you are I know where you are Youre down drinking at the bar I can picture you there on that stool Drinking like a drunken fool Yeah, youre 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 Youre down drinking at the bar Now heres the romantic part Dean Martins on the jukebox, I bet Or maybe its Tammy Wynette The tearjerkers are jerking your tears Salt water in your whiskey and your beers Youve got the Miller High Life bouncing balls Youve got the Utica Club waterfalls I know where you are, oh ho Youre down at the bar Youre down at the bar Go ahead get drunk, its alright Lost weekend on a Tuesday night But Im going to have to give you the score Im not going to call you up on the telephone no more Im sick and tired of listening to that phone ring 15 times Im sick and tired of getting back my dimes! Because I know what you are Youre a sot, thats what you are I know what you are Youre a lush You got a big red nose! I know where you are, baby I know where you are... Youre down drinking at the bar
bar, drinking, ring, phone, know