Cisco Clifton had a fillin' station
 About a mile and a half from town
 Most cars passed unless they were out of gas
 So Cisco was always around

 Regular gas was all that it sold
 Except tobacco matches and oil
 Other than that he fixed lots of flats
 Keepin' Cisco rough hands soiled

 He'd wipe the gas and check the air
 In a hundred times a day
 He patiently gave directions
 On how to get to the state highway

 Usually he'd give 'em water
 Or a tyre or two some air
 And once a big black Cadillac
 Spent seven dollars there

 He'd give anybody anything they'd ask
 And lend anything he had
 His tools are tyres bumper jacks or wire
 To the good ones or the bad

 In wintertime there was a depot stove
 And a table for a checker game
 And every mornin' at sunup
 The same checker players came

 So Cisco Clifton's fillin' station
 Was always in the red
 Personal loans were personally gone
 But never a word was said

 One mornin' at eight, them checker players
 Heard a big bulldozer roar like a freight
 And Cisco said I hope my kids stay fed
 When they build that Interstate

 He'd managed to pay for property
 Where his little fillin' station sat
 And friends still came for checker game
 So Cisco settled for that

 He wouldn't say so but Cisco knew
 That the Interstate was too much to fight
 But to keep his will and to pay his bills
 He did odd jobs at night

 He still opened up at sunrise
 And the checker game went on
 The cars flew past on highest gas
 And the neighbors had sold out and gone

 If a car ever did go by he was lost
 And if they stopped they were treated the same
 So at Cisco Clifton's fillin' station
 There's a howdy and a checker game