Tucson, Arizona (Gazette) Lyrics by Dan Fogelberg
Album : Portrait: Music Of Dan Fogelberg From 1972-1997 , Windows And Walls
Clean Lyric
Paragraph Lyric
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 $3.15 an hour
Serving shots of whiskey
And tequila in some smoky redneck 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 as 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
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
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 $3.15 an hour   Serving shots of whiskey    And tequila in some smoky redneck 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 as 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   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