Johns

E
Most of the favorite memories of my 
boyhood days in Arkansas
Are scattered around an old wood 
                          A
stove at a place we call John's

It was just an old tar paper shack
                                 E
With a pump out front and some junk 
out back

But inside there was always a hot 
cup of coffee
And a warm place around the fire for
   A
 anyone
John pumped gas for a living and he 
                    E
fixed tires on the side

And I guess old John could fix most 
anything
                            A
If you didn't push it he'd try

And he gave me my first charge 
account for some gas
       E
And financed my first date

Even fixed my old radio just in case
 I got lucky
                                A
And wanted to park down by the lake

[Chorus]
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      D
And among the carburetors and the 
re-built generators
   A                               
I spent the whole night picking on 
    E            A
an old flattop guitar
       D
John would play the fiddle and I'd 
always sing a little
     A                             
No there is no place to get filled 
        E                 A
up the way you could at John's

[Verse]
       E
John taught me a whole lot about 
country music because he loved it
We'd sit up and listen to the Grand 
                          A
Ole Opry every Saturday night

Nobody would ever say a word, not 
even during Martha White
And I was awfully young back then, 
              E
but still I knew just why

That John closed the shop the whole 
day
                             A
When we heard that Hank had died

There was something else special 
about ole John

[Verse]
    E
He had a way of making us kids feel 
important
Simply by giving us a good clean 
          A
place to hang out
Well I can still hear him saying 
  E
pumping gas is a fever boys
It'll get in your blood and it'll 
                               A
make your face break out in a grin
                                 E 
Just to check old lady Hanson's oil
                         A
 or to help a stranded friend

[Chorus]
      D
And among the carburetors and the 
re-built generators
   A                               
I spent the whole night picking on 
    E            A
an old flattop guitar
       D
John would play the fiddle and I'd 
always sing a little
     A                             
No there is no place to get filled 
        E                 A
up the way you could at John's

[Chorus]
      D
And among the carburetors and the 
re-built generators
   A                               
I spent the whole night picking on 
    E            A
an old flattop guitar
       D
John would play the fiddle and I'd 
always sing a little
     A                             
No there is no place to get filled 
        E                 A
up the way you could at John's