jj looks down to the straight white
hash marks on the higway
that perforate his own life
from the nation
his side of the cut is the
sentimental corner edge of town
and everyday jj say
I think I’m gonna get away
I’m tired of tryin’
to run my poppa’s station
oh but the city limits
always seem to make him turn around
so if you go driving through st. martin’s pass
seems you’ve been driving a little too fast
and when you find that your last tank won’t last
the price is still the same at joe’s gas
jj gets to work by five in the morning
day after month after year
pump the petrol, full serve only
everytime the tire sounds the bell
jj's back at home by five in the evening
with his wife, his kids, and his beer
he’ll say he likes his life
but gauging by his eyes it’s hard to tell
Chorus
jj sits back underneath
the shade of his awning
taking time to roll his own smokes
tourists stop and say how cute
if jj had a gun he’d shoot
because he knows
they’ve only stopped to rest
jj turns down mr. nguyen’s bid
for his business
he says thanks but no thanks
I think I’m gonna stay
a man who sells concessions
confections and protections
has to make this filling hole his nest
Chorus
Mike Clem © 1992 J. Fish Music/ASCAP