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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