Americana

And we sing feelin free

Got our backs against the tree at the park

Where we left our mark

She likes the pop scene

And flowers over seas of green and I swear

She’s in love with me

But she don’t like my Americana

But she don’t like my Americana

And that’s alright

And when it’s gettin late

I see the street lights light up the lake where I met you

And when we set sail

I’m bringing bottles of wine and stories to tell how I met you

But she don’t like my Americana

But she don’t like my Americana

And she don’t like my Americana

And she don’t like my Americana

And those fireworks light up your eyes

And those fireworks light up your eyes