He was wipin’ motor oil off her dipstick She was pullin’ on the hair that got caught in her lipstick And with the smell of her perfume he forgot the smell of gasoline As he was toppin’ off her tank she said， “How far to Abilene?”
He sees ’em come He sees ’em go From the island of his Two pump Texaco
There’s a rusted out Rambler up on the rack And a pile of bald Goodyear’s out in the back He meets families on vacation， bikers and businessmen He calls ’em “friend” but he’ll probably never see ’em again No he won’t
He sees ’em come He sees ’em go From the island of his Two pump Texaco He keeps ’em moving On down the road Come back real soon To his two pump Texaco
He’s heard about those big city shop-n-go stations With twenty automated self-service machines He just feels sorry for them big city people They must not know what service really means He’s got a sign that says
Last chance stop for at least two hundred miles Maps， gas， soda pop， Lucky Strikes and Moon Pies Yeah， he’s a third generation filler-up， full service man He thanks the Lord for that “star” in the sky and the grease on his hands Yeah he does
He sees ’em come He sees ’em go From the island of his Two pump Texaco It’s like a place we used to know Come back real soon To his two pump Texaco
