Tar Top

It was July hot 'cross Georgia on my way to Myrtle Beach

I just got my diploma so I set out in search of me

The honeymoon was over, and Alabama was far away

From being little more than just a southern state.

I got a gig down at the Bowery

I played for tip and watered drinks

Just a novice in a business

That's seldom what it seems.

And where are you goin' Tar Top

Where's J. C. And The Chosen Few

I saw the Flash without T. Gentry

And B. V. left for Malibu.

I was July hot and thirty, some years down the line

When the Boys touched the nation, unaware at the time

I got to go to Texas, California, New York too

A farm boy who is thankful to be standin' in his shoes.

But in the Bowery hangs the mem'ries

Of dreams that still come true

Every time I see the spotlight

I'm one of the chosen few.

And where are you going Tar Top

Where's J. C. and the Chosen Few

There's no Flash without T. Gentry

And B. V. where are you?

Where are you goin' Tar Top

Which direction will you take

What's this contrabanded clamor

About the music that you make?

And where are you goin' Tar Top

Is it country enough

Is it contemporary glamour

No it's us, just us.

Uh huh...