Aimee Mann - Ballantines

It must be hard
Ringing the bells
Of doors that don't swing
Wide anymore
It must be hard
Hearing the sound
Of voices
Just inside of the door

A man who couldn't
Hold your coat
Once hung on every anecdote
So it must be hard
Watching the fellows gloat
Ballantines

It must be hard
Seeing the same old crowd
Just pass you
By in the street
It must be tough
Knowing your stuff
Could only horrify
The elite

You'd cut off
Everyone you know
Boy'd you told 'em
All where to go
Now it must be hard
Getting the same heave-ho
Ballantines

Well, patrons at the bar
In Lexington Kentucky
Once sprung
For every drink you downed
With things the way
They are
It's not that kind of party
If what you've got
Might just be going around

The fat cows
Won't be getting thin
Seeing the kind
Of jam you're in
Though the angels dance
On the head of another pin

Ballantines
Ballantines
Ballantines