John’s

Most of the favorite memories of
My boyhood days in Arkansas
Are scattered around an old wood stove
At a place we call John's
It was just an old tar paper 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 living and
He fixed tires on the side
And I guess old 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 old 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 picking
On an old flattop guitar
John would play the fiddle and
I'd always sing a little
No there is no place to get filled
Up the way you could at John's
John taught me a whole lot about
Country music because he loved it
We'd sit up and listen to the
Grand Ole Opry every Saturday night
Nobody would ever say a word
Not even during Martha White
And I was awfully 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 something else special
About ole John
He had a way of making us kids feel important
Simply by giving us a good
Clean place to hang out
Well I can still hear him saying
Pumping 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 old lady Hanson's oil
Or to help a stranded friend

And among the carburetors and
The re-built generators