Walkin' back from Tucson
Just a lonely little blue son,
Castrol oil across my face.
Needin’ feminine touch
So bad I can taste.
Though the good Lord
Knows the final law.
And to Him I’m just coleslaw.
She walks through the desert with her heart in her smile and hate on her sleeve. Cactus blossom with her tears then wither quickly as he leaves briskly to go find her new risky sanctuary. Eyes that have seen pain, only the grains of time outlast her sorrow. Every scenic sunset she cries, she gasps, she tries to grasp for harmony. And with each new horizon she awakes to search for happiness.
broke down in Tucson
flat-busted, him punchin' cows
and her slingin' hash
Today I rode into Tucson
Determined to buy a new futon
A squirt in a skirt
Got down in the dirt
And flashed me a discount coupon
Tucson in October
Is called the shoulder season
It could be hot - maybe cool
But nothing out of reason
Every morning the sun will shine
Of this there is no doubt
It’s expected it to be that way –
“day in” and “day out”
If a dark and rainy day
Should somehow come along
It becomes the headline news
The weather man was wrong
A rare diversion from the sun
Is something of a thriller
But tomorrow, when it returns
The humidity is a killer