A passenger traveling quietly conceals himself With a magazine and a sleepless pillow Over the crest of the mountain the moon begins its climb   And he wakes to find he’s in rolling farmland   The farmer sleeps against his wife   He wonders what their life must be    A Trailways bus is heading south Into Washington D.C.        A mother and child the baby maybe two months old   Prepare themselves for sleep and feeding.   The shadow of the Capitol dome slides across his face And his heart is racing with the urge to freedom.   The father motionless as stone   A shepherd resting with his flock The Trailways bus is turning west Dallas via Little Rock.     O my darling darling Son   The desert moon is my witness. I’ve no money to come East But I know you’ll soon be here   We pull into downtown Dallas by the side of the grassy knoll Where the leader fell and a town was broken.   Away from the feel and flow of life for so many years   He hears music playing and Spanish spoken   The border patrol outside of Tucson boarded the bus   Any aliens here? You better check with us   How about you son? You look like you got Spanish blood.   Do you ’Habla Ingles?’ Am I understood?   Yes I am an alien from Mars. I come to Earth from outer space.     And if I traveled my whole life   You guys would still be on my case You guys would still be on my case   But he can’t leave his fears behind He recalls each fatal thrust    The screams carried by the wind . Phantom figures in the dust   Phantom figures in the dust Phantom figures in the dust.