Weathered hand across the glass, polished clean but not too fast / Tank is full and the tires too he quietly asks can I check your oil for you / Chorus / Here for years by the side of highway 10 / Where the road spills from the mountains west of the rivers bend / No need for speed in this small town / At this one man service station where time itself slows down / I pulled in half past eight the sun was down and it was getting late / The sign said closed but the light was still on a voice inside said, "May I help you son?" / He cracked that door and he opened a smile he knew I had been traveling a long while / His face was worn like the road that I was on and that wooden chair that he sat upon / Chorus / His room was as simple as the very first day / And over forty years ago not much at the station had changed / "But things move on," he said to me ," and the older you get the more you see / That progress moves even faster than time." / With the new interstate he thinks he's been left behind / He said, "this used to be a small town with really big dreams and plenty of time - Now we ain't got enough time to get what we think we need without feeling left behind." / He pointed to the window to the sign reading sold / And as we walked to my car I knew all I needed to know / I watched his tired eyes and his hands move with grace / I knew I would never forget this place / Chorus
