Here I sit in Myrtle City, streets so bare and not so pretty, all alone, without a dime to buy.One small bottle is all I'm after, to take me back to all the laughter when the town had a rhyme or two.Ooh, town, nothing seems quite the same. Ooh, town, memories flow like rain.Stop awhile, think and smile, back to when, then.Here I sit in my amazement to see the street now crumbling, pavement and the bars left to dry, no wine.To quench this one man's tired thirst, who laughs when progress brings the worst to your own town, in your own town.Ooh, town, nothing seems quite the same. Ooh, town, memories flow like rain.Stop awhile, think and smile, back to when, then.Here I sit in my amazement to see the street now crumbling, pavement and the bars left to dry, no wine.Here I sit in my amazement to see the street now crumbling, pavement and the bars left to dry, no wine.Ooh, town.Ooh, town.