| He was driving home one evening, | 
| In his beat up Pontiac | 
| When an old lady flagged him down, | 
| Her Mercedes had a flat | 
| He could see that she was frightened, | 
| Standing out there in the snow | 
| 'Til he said I’m here to help you ma’am, | 
| By the way my name is Joe | 
| She said I’m from St. Louis, | 
| And I’m only passing through | 
| I must have seen a hundred cars go by, | 
| This is awful nice of you | 
| When he changed the tire, | 
| And closed her trunk | 
| And was about to drive away, | 
| She said how much do I owe you | 
| Here’s what he had to say | 
| You don’t owe me a thing, I’ve been there too | 
| Someone once helped me out, | 
| Just the way I’m helping you | 
| If you really want to pay me back, | 
| Here’s what you do Don’t let the chain of love end with you | 
| Well a few miles down the road, | 
| The lady saw a small cafe | 
| She went in to grab a bite to eat, | 
| And then be on her way | 
| But she couldn’t help but notice, | 
| How the waitress smiled so sweet | 
| And how she must’ve been eight months along, | 
| And dead on her feet | 
| And though she didn’t know her story, | 
| And she probably never will | 
| When the waitress went to get her change, | 
| From a hundred dollar bill | 
| The lady slipped right out the door, | 
| And on a napkin left a note | 
| There were tears in the waitress’s eyes, | 
| When she read what she wrote | 
| You don’t owe me a thing, | 
| I’ve been there too | 
| Someone once helped me out, | 
| Just the way I’m helping you | 
| If you really want to pay me back, | 
| Here’s what you do Don’t let the chain of love end with you | 
| That night when she got home from work, | 
| The waitress climbed into bed | 
| She was thinkin’about the money, | 
| And what the lady’s note had said | 
| As her husband lay there sleeping, | 
| She whispered soft and low | 
| Everything’s gonna be alright, I love you, Joe |