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.