Freeway
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Hey, Mama, I'm going on, at 9 o'clock
Athens, Georgia, at the 40 Watt
That's my name, up on the marquee
Good to see you, then I'm gone, like a tumbleweed
Rolled-up blue jeans, greener grass
Guitar sound, out the Marshall stack
I missed those glory days
'Cause I was born, forty years too late
Or maybe, right on time
Way back, never gonna see me, again
Sweet like nothing, a whisper, in the wind
Rolling down a river, like a lost map dot Mark Twain
Playing with the band, staying up, 'til dawn
Don't know what you're feeling, 'til you hear it, in a song
What you can't buy, is better than a pocket full of change
Living, that free way
Living, that free way
We're all chasing something real
Turnpike's playing, outside of Mobile
Birdie's working ag, for the GCA
Ellie just bought herself, a cheap Mustang
And I still play bass
Way back, never gonna see me, again
Sweet like nothing, a whisper, in the wind
Rolling down a river, like a lost map dot Mark Twain
Playing with the band, staying up, 'til dawn
Don't know what you're feeling, 'til you hear it in a song
What you can't buy, is better than a pocket full of change
Living, that free way
Living, that free way
Way back, never gonna see me, again
Sweet like nothing, a whisper, in the wind
Rolling down a river, like a lost map dot Mark Twain
Playing with the band, staying up, 'til dawn
Don't know what you're feeling, 'til you hear it, in a song
What you can't buy, is better than a pocket full of change
Yeah, what you can't buy, is better than a pocket full of change
Living that free way
Living that free way
Living that free way
Living that free way