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