Who's that stomping all over my face?
Where's that silhouette I'm trying to trace?
Who's putting sponge in the bells I once rung
And taking my gypsy before she's begun
To singing the meaning of what's in my mind
Before I can take home what's rightfully mine.
Joinin' and listenin' and talkin' in rhymes
Stoppin' the feeling to wait for the times.

Who's saying baby, that don't mean a thing,
'Cause nowadays Clancy can't even sing.

And who's all hung-up on that happiness thing?
Who's trying to tune all the bells that he rings?
And who's in the corner and down on the floor
With pencil and paper just counting the score?
And who's trying to act like he's just in between?
The line isn't black, if you know that it's green.
Don't bother looking, you're too blind to see
Who's coming on like he wanted to be.

Who's saying baby, that don't mean a thing,
'Cause nowadays Clancy can't even sing.

And who's coming home on the old nine-to-five?
Who's got the feeling that he came alive,
Though havin' it, sharin' it ain't quite the same
It ain't no gold nugget, you can't lay a claim
Who's seeing eyes through the crack in the floor
There it is baby, don't you worry no more
Who should be sleepin', but is writing this song
Wishin' and a-hopin' he weren't so damned wrong.

Who's saying baby, that don't mean a thing,
'Cause nowadays Clancy can't even sing.

Writer : YOUNG, NEIL
Copyright : Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.