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F. Scott Fitzgerald

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“ F. Scott Fitzgerald is a song about being on the road with someone you love, in a car old enough to have an ashtray, listening to Jerry Reed and Kris Kristofferson through a cassette adapter. "

Lyrics

You're staring in the rear-view, but you're not looking back
Just putting your makeup on
The loose change in the ashtray we're saving for the tollway
Rattles like a tambourine to the rhythm of every song

And the road says welcome home
You've got an old soul, but you're not alone
We're gonna sing all those songs about highways and freedom
And make up a few of our own
And make up a few of our own

Moving like the ever-changing scenery around us
But constant as a coffee stain on an old gas station map
If you're looking for your roots kick the dust off of your boots
And throw your suitcase in the back

And the road says welcome home
You've got an old soul, but you're not alone
We're gonna sing all those songs about highways and freedom
And make up a few of our own
Make up a few of our own
Make up a few of our own
Make up a few of our own

You with your notebook and me with my tobacco
You're writing poetry, and I'm just blowing smoke
Tell me again about F. Scott Fitzgerald
And I'll tell another corny joke

And the road says welcome home
You've got an old soul, but you're not alone
We're gonna sing all those songs about highways and freedom
And make up a few of our own
And Make up a few of our own
Make up a few of our own
Make up a few of our own
Make up a few of our own
Make up a few of our own