Sloan - C.W. McCall

Well, I found him on the corner of Seventh and Main
In the Iowa township of Sloan (Township of Sloan...)
He's tired, and he's hungry, he's old, and he's grungy
And parked in a no-parkin' zone 

Well I bent down an' says "How ya doin', old fella?"
He tried to get up on his own (On his own...)
When I gave him a piece a' my ham salad sandwich
He reached up an' licked on my nose 

[Chorus]
He gave him a piece of his ham salad sandwich
And reached up and licked on his nose
Old Sloan... 

Well, I opened the door of my old beat-up semi
Threw an old dirty shirt on the floor (On the floor...)
He hopped in an' laid hisself down by the gearshift
Curled up and started to snore 

For years we went truckin' them highways together
On the byways of life we did roam (They did roam...)
With his paws on the dashboard an' his head out the winda
An' his ears in the breeze, gently blowin' 

[Chorus]
With his paws on the dashboard, his head out the winder
And his ears in the breeze gently blowin'
Old Sloan...

When one mornin' last May, four miles north a' Mondamin
I stopped to use a pay telephone (Pay telephone...)
Old Sloan made a fireplug, while I made a phone call
An' when I come back, he was gone 

Well I searched forty miles of that Interstate highway
And the byways that we used to roam (Used to roam...)
From Ricketts to Red Line, Magnolia to Woodbine
But I just couldn't find poor ol' Sloan 

[Chorus]
From Fiscus to Jacksonville, Quick to Correctionville 
Looked like the end for old Sloan 

Poor ol' fella. He didn't have no license, nor shots, nor nothin'. 

I thought he's a goner. 

When on a cold winter day on the ninth of November
I's drivin' my rig all alone (All alone...)
When my eye caught a blur in my left rear-view mirror
An' my ears heard the sound of old Sloan 

He's runni