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Tucson, Arizona (Gazette) Lyrics

from Windows and Walls

"Tucson, Arizona (Gazette)" is track #7 on the album Windows and Walls. It was written by Fogelberg, Dan.
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"Tucson, Arizona (Gazette)" is track #7 on the album Windows and Walls. It was written by Fogelberg, Dan.
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Tucson, Arizona
Rising in the heat like a mirage
Tony keeps his Chevy
Like a virgin locked in his garage

He brings it out at midnight
And cruises down the empty boulevards
And he prowls the darkened alleys
That snake between the city's thirsty yards

The lonely desert skies reflect
The anger in his eyes and it is dawn

His father died of drinking
And left five children sinking with his mom
His older brother Bobby
Never made it back from Vietnam

With high school well behind him
He lives at home and works this shitty job

And he thinks his '60 Chevy
Is the only true amigo that he's got
His heart is filled with sadness
And his soul is like some ugly vacant lot

Mary Estelle Hanna
Came out from Louisiana for the sun
A deal gone bad in Dallas
Left her burned and broke and on the run

To make the rent and groceries
She takes this job at dollar 3.15 an hour
Serving shots of whiskey and tequila
In some smoky red neck bar

And she dreams some day
She'll make her way to L.A and become a movie star

Tony saw her working
He swallowed hard and asked her for a date
Mary laughed and answered
"I would but every night I'm working late"

He said he had some cocaine
That she could have if she'd just ride along
She said, "What the hell, I may a well
I haven't had no fun in so damn long"

He picked her up at closing time
They pulled out on the road and they were gone

Tony's mom got frantic
When she found her son had not come home
Mary's roommate panicked
And called the sheriff from a public phone

They asked her lots of questions
She tried her best to tell them what she saw
And late that night they found poor Mary
Lying in some narrow, dusty draw

And the coroner reported
That she hadn't been deceased for very long

Two weeks on they found it
Buried to the windshield in the sand
There inside lay Tony
With a small revolver in his hand

The papers simply stated
It must have been the drugs that drove him mad
The neighbors speculated
What could make a good boy go so bad?

Well, it might have been the desert heat
It might have been the home he never had

Songwriters
FOGELBERG, DAN

Published by
Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing

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