Letra de 'Tucson, Arizona (Gazette)' de Dan Fogelberg

Tucson, Arizona (Gazette) é uma música de Dan Fogelberg cuja letra tem inúmeras buscas, por isso decidimos que ela merece seu lugar neste site, junto com muitas outras letras de músicas que os internautas desejam conhecer.

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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 Viet Nam
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 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

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