Talkin' at the Texaco by James McMurtry
Talkin' at the Texaco by James McMurtry

Talkin’ at the Texaco

James McMurtry * Track #11 On Too Long in the Wasteland

Talkin’ at the Texaco Lyrics

Well if you're lookin' for a good time
You're a little bit late
We rolled up the sidewalks
At a quarter to eight
It's a small town
We can't sell you no beer
It's a small town, so
May I ask what you're doin' here

Hey what you up to
I already know
I heard the boys
Talkin' at the Texaco
It's a small town
I know how you feel
It's a small town, son
And the news travels
Quicker than wheels

Who you lookin' for
What was his name
You can prob'ly find him
At the football game
It's a small town
You know what I mean
It's a small town, son
And we all support the team

The preacher drove by in his Cadillac
I waved at him but he didn't wave back
It's a small town
Everybody knows your face
It's a small town, son
And we all must know our place

I woke up feeling foggy
And I called old Mrs. White
I figured she could tell me
What I did last night
It's a small town
She's bound to know
It's a small town, son
I believe that I better go

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