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Introducción:
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Most of the favorite memories of my boyhood days in Arkansas
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Are scattered around an old wood stove at a place we call John's
It was just an old tar paper shack
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With a pump out front and some junk out back
But inside there was always a hot cup of coffee
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And a warm place around the fire for anyone
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John pumped gas for a living and he fixed tires on the side
And I guess old John could fix most anything
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If you didn't push it he'd try
And he gave me my first charge account for some gas
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And financed my first date
Even fixed my old radio just in case I got lucky
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And wanted to park down by the lake
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And among the carburetors and the re-built generators
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I spent the whole night picking on an old flattop guitar
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John would play the fiddle and I'd always sing a little
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No there is no place to get filled up the way you could at John's
Verse
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John taught me a whole lot about country music because he loved it
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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
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And I was awfully young back then, but still I knew just why
That John closed the shop the whole day
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When we heard that Hank had died
There was something else special about ole John
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He had a way of making us kids feel important
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Simply by giving us a good clean place to hang out
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Well I can still hear him saying pumping gas is a fever boys
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It'll get in your blood and it'll make your face break out in a grin
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Just to check old lady Hanson's oil or to help a stranded friend
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And among the carburetors and the re-built generators
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I spent the whole night picking on an old flattop guitar
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John would play the fiddle and I'd always sing a little
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No there is no place to get filled up the way you could at John's
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And among the carburetors and the re-built generators
A E A
I spent the whole night picking on an old flattop guitar
D
John would play the fiddle and I'd always sing a little
A E A
No there is no place to get filled up the way you could at John's