I’m on a red-eye out of Nashville.
Should be in Tucson by three.
Is there a chance you could forgive me?
Will you wait and see?
Or is your love gone
Like that Arizona dawn
The one you saw alone
The morning I left home?
Did the fire fade?
Have all our yesterdays
Been eclipsed by that blinding desert sun?
Is your love gone?
With just my guitar and my suitcase
I left you without a note
To make my name in the neon lights
With all those songs I wrote.
Now, I’ve got a prayer in my back pocket,
And my hat is in my hands.
I’m coming home, but I don’t expect
For you to let me in.
I’m asking, “Will you let me in?”
Or is your love gone
Like that Arizona dawn
The one you saw alone
The morning I left home?
Honey, could there be a chance for you and me,
Or have I been in Tennessee for way too long?
Is your love gone?
If you can’t forgive me, I’ll understand.
I know I haven’t acted like any decent kind of man.
I was a reckless fool chasing a fantasy.
Now this dead-end dream ain’t nothing more than the harsh reality
Your love may be gone
Like that Arizona dawn
The one you saw alone
The morning I left home.
Honey, there may be no chance for you and me.
I wouldn’t blame you, but I pray that I am wrong.
I hope your love’s not gone.
*Written after a trip to Saguaro National Park. I got up before dawn to take photos of the sunrise. My husband was still sleeping, and I’ve always regretted that he missed it.