Trailways Bus Paul Simon
A passenger travelin[E]g quietly conceals himself [A]
With a m[B]agazine and a sl[E]eepless pillow
O[E]ver the crest of the mountain the moon beg[A]ins its climb
And he [B]wakes to find he's in rolling f[E]armland
[Am]The farmer sleeps again[E]st his wife
[Am]He wonders w[G]hat their life must [C]be [Em]
[Am]A Trailways bus is heading so[G]uth
I[F]nto Washington, [B7]D.C. [E]
A mo[E]ther and child, the baby maybe t[A]wo months old
P[B]repare themselves for sl[E]eep and feeding.
[E]The shadow of the Capitol dom[A]e slides across his face
And his h[B]eart is racing with the u[E]rge to freedom.
[Am]The father motionless as [E]stone,
[Am]A shepherd re[G]sting wi[C]th his fl[Em]ock,
[Am]The Trailways bus is turning we[G]st
[F]Dallas [C]via Lit[G]tle Rock. [D]
[E]O my darling, darling [A]Son
[B]The desert moon is my wi[E]tness.
[E]I've no money to come [A]East,
But [B]I know you'll soon be h[E]ere
We p[D]ull into downtown Dallas by the side of the gr[G]assy knoll
Where the le[A]ader fell and a t[D]own was broken.
A[D]way from the feel and flow of life for s[G]o many years
He hears mu[A]sic playing and Spa[D]nish spoken [D7]
The bo[E]rder patrol outside of Tucson bo[A]arded the bus
Any al[B]iens here? You better ch[E]eck with us,
H[E]ow about you son? You look like you got Sp[E]anish blood.
Do you 'H[B]abla Ingles,' and I un[E]derstood.
[Am]Yes, I am an al[E]ien, from Mars.
[Am]I come to Ea[G]rth from ou[C]ter space. [Em]
[Am]And if I traveled my whole li[G]fe
[F]You guys would s[C]till be on my ca[G]se
[F]You guys would s[C]till be on my ca[G]se
[Am]But he can't leave his fears be[G]hind,
[Am]He recal[G]ls each fat[C]al thrust [Em]
The s[Am]creams carried by the w[G]ind, .
[F]Phantom figures [C]in the d[G]ust
[F]Phantom figures [C]in the d[G]ust
[F]Phantom figures [C]in the d[G]ust.
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