Remembering our kiss, as I said goodbye to catch the bus,
the hugs and the tears, I said try not to fuss.
Our last wave, as I turned to go around the bend,
I promised to call you, and the letters that I would send.
We have said our goodbyes so many times, since the day that I can
we will get through this one like the rest of them, roll on that day in September.
It’s been four months now, stuck out in this place,
the heat of the desert sun, burning at my face.
I would swap all of this tomorrow, the heartache and the pain;
soon this tour will disappear, like tears in the rain.