Delay is Not Denial Here I am in the desert and you’re in that Appalachian town. I’m calling to say I’m sorry; I never meant to let you down. You say you think it’s better that we both just make a new start; you say if it can’t be mended, it’s better to rip it apart. You and I, we both know our love could never die: sweet as a mountain morning, soft as a southern sky. When I said that I’d be coming home soon, I meant what I was saying. Delay is not denial so, baby, keep on praying. Sittin' outside a truck stop with the Interstate still ringing in my ears, I’m wondering if you’ll answer, or just leave me standing here. Anything worth having is surely not worth having alone; the nights are getting longer so, baby, please pick up the phone.