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.