| The traffic at this hour is so thick |
| That he's afraid he might be late |
| Her flight arrives at 7:10 |
| And he remembers how she hates to wait |
| And he remembers losing her |
| And begging her to give him time to change |
| Now the time has come, and his mind is numb |
| 'Cause his final chance is coming on that plane |
|
| She fastens up her seatbelt |
| And nervously she finishes her drink |
| An all-night flight from L.A. |
| Can give a woman too much time to think |
| And she hopes that he'll be different |
| But she knows deep in her heart he'll be the same |
| And she wonders if the stewardess |
| Would be kind enough to just let her stay on that plane |
|
| That plane |
| Settling into the heavy city haze |
| And she remembers guilty nights |
| And baby-please-forgive-me days |
| That plane |
| Screaming as loud as the pain they both feel |
| As she slowly unfastens her belt |
| And he clutches the wheel |
|
| He's one mile from the airport |
| Traffic's backed up all along the lane |
| She waits five minutes, takes a breath |
| Turns around and gets back on that plane |
| She can ride it through to Denver |
| She's got friends there, they could spend a little time |
| 'Cause she knew he'd never be there |
| And he knew she never was the waiting kind |
|
| That plane |
| Rising up in the heavy city haze |
| And she remembers guilty nights |
| And baby-please-forgive-me days |
| That plane |
| Screaming as loud as the pain they both feel |
| As she slowly fastens her belt |
| And he clutches the wheel |
|