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