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