Some come here prepared to fail, some with delusions of success
But no workmen's confidence
They swarm the restaurants and with their swollen feet they over dramatize their beat
After one year of b**hin', they return to their home state with silken hands
And for those who've been here for years working it and trying it
Their hands show the rough, rugged course
And in early fall when the sun hits the leaves just right
Is when our tables house the rich Hamptonites
Now pockets a little greener, our hearts a little younger
We'll work through the slow and make bank with the flow
I don't mean to be crude and I don't mean to be rude
But if you put in the time she'll give you wine
We'll keep up the heart until she shows us the next course to chart
And in truth we'll jump with a child's heart
Ooooh, in truth we'll jump with a child's heart
Ooooh, in truth we'll jump with a child's heart
Ooooh, in truth we'll jump with a child's heart
Ooooh, in truth we'll jump with a child's heart
Ooooh, in truth we'll jump with a child's heart