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On
a two lane state highway, in a small drive-thru town
There stood a fillin’ station, the only one for miles around
There were two pumps, one garage door, and bottle pop machine
Old tires and hub caps stacked out back,
A
sign that said "Our rest rooms are clean"
REPRISE:
I worked after school and summer vacation, at the station
Get the latest information at the station,
Always somebody just hangin’ round
Talkin’ bout ball games, politics and pick-up trucks,
Tellin’ tall tales ’bout our little town
Sign out front said "Full service, clean the glass,
"Check the tires, pump the gas"
Always had to have a look under the hood,
Once I figured out where the latch was at
CHORUS:
Earned my shade tree mechanic certification, at the station
BRIDGE:
Old tool girl calendar, hung on the wall,
Faded pages, turned a 1000 times
I figured some of them girls were grandmas by now
But they sure looked good back in ’65
In the summer, I’d sit outside the station,
Wave at the girls that would pass
I’d flirt with the ladies that pulled up to the pump
My cologne smelled stronger than the gas
In the winter, it never failed, some guy would wait ’til it
got five degrees
Roll down the window, barely enough, that I could hear him say,
"Fifty cents worth, please"
REPRISE:
Had my share of fun, had my share of frustration
Workin’ at the station
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