Old Fashioned Kind

I like to hear the plaintive croon Of a tenor saxophone In a dive of a room Where I sit all alone Oo oo oo oo ooh I read books by dead authors Keep a handkerchief around Tip my hate to strangers And have another round Oo oo oo oo ooh Sweet as a cube of sugar Dissolving in my glass Complex as the bitters Casting their dark path Through the amber of the whiskey Stirring memories in my mind I guess you'd call me The Old Fashioned Kind I'm not stuck in the past But I do like some tradition I can feel the future's wrath And its tireless motion Oo oo oo oo ooh So I say keep it simple Don't forget to add the ice Take or leave a cherry But an orange twist can be nice Oo oo oo oo ooh Sweet as a cube of sugar Dissolving in my glass Complex as the bitters Casting their dark path Through the amber of the whiskey Stirring memories in my mind I guess you'd call me The Old Fashioned Kind Sweet as a cube of sugar Dissolving in my glass Complex as the bitters Casting their dark path Through the amber of the whiskey Stirring memories in my mind I guess you'd call me The Old Fashioned Kind The Old Fashioned Kind The Old Fashioned Kind The Old Fashioned Kind The Old Fashioned Kind The Old Fashioned Kind The Old Fashioned Kind The Old Fashioned Kind The Old Fashioned Kind