John's

Most of the favorite mem'ries of my boyhood days in Arkansas

Are scattered around an ole wood stove at a place we call John's

It was just an ole tarpaper shack

With a pump out front and some junk out back

But inside there was always a hot cup of coffee

And a warm place around the fire for anyone

John pumped gas for a livin' and he fixed tires on the side

And I guess ole John could fix most anything

If you didn't push it he'd try

And he gave me my first charge account for some gas

And financed my first date

Even fixed my ole radio just in case I got lucky

And wanted to park down by the lake

And among the carburetors and the re-built generators

I spent the whole night pickin' on an ol' flattop guitar

John would play the fiddle and I'd always sing a little

No there ain't no place to get filled up the way you could at John's

John taught me a whole lot about country music cause he loved it

We'd sit up and listen to the Grand Ole Opry ever Saturday night

Nobody would ever say a word not even durin' Martha White

And I was awful young back then but still I knew just why

That John closed the shop the whole day

When we heard that Hank had died

There was somethin' else special about ole John

He had a way of makin' us kids feel important

simply by givin' us a good clean place to hang out

Well I can still hear him sayin' pumpin' gas is a fever boys

It'll get in your blood and it'll make your face break out in a grin

Just to check ole lady Hanson's oil or to help a stranded friend

And among the carburetors and the re-built generators...

And among the carburetors and the re-built generators...