| The grapevine says you’re drinking hard in Charleston
|
| You burned your wings in Tennessee
|
| I hope it’s warm in Carolina
|
| Maybe the Coast is what you need
|
| I see you standing by the Ocean
|
| There on that hill near Folly Beach
|
| Where we would sing of truth and promise
|
| Where we would sing of love and peace
|
| Tell all our friends in Carolina
|
| That you last saw me, smiling big,
|
| With one thumb and one foot forward
|
| Still singing at the same old gig
|
| Remember when we watched those three guys landing
|
| When Armstrong made it to the moon
|
| And your guitar was in the pawn shop
|
| We bailed it out that afternoon
|
| Like Lancelot you seemed to grow there
|
| Despite the lines around your eyes
|
| We sat and played that day on Broadway
|
| We sat and sang all night and cried
|
| Tell all our friends in Carolina
|
| That you last saw me, smiling big,
|
| With one thumb and one foot forward
|
| Still singing at the same old gig
|
| The grapevine says you’re woking hard in Charleston
|
| You earned your wings in Tennessee
|
| I hope it’s warm in Carolina
|
| Maybe the Coast is what you need |
| I see you standing by the Ocean
|
| There on that hill near Zuma Beach
|
| Where we would sing of truth and promise
|
| Where we would sing of love and peace
|
| Tell all our friends in Carolina
|
| That you last saw me, smiling big,
|
| With one thumb and one foot forward
|
| Still singing at the same old gig |