Out in the silent desert
Under the hunter's moon
The road was a ribbon of silver
Winding away in the gloom
A glimpse of motion behind me
And loping behind my van
Made of cactus spines and mesquite twigs
Was the figure of a man
My foot came down on the pedal
I shot around a curve
Then my eyes leapt to the mirror
And it almost made me swerve
The figure raced on behind me
At a distance still the same
And a bitter wind swept through my soul
A dread without a name
All through the midnight desert
Silent and cold and black
The figure kept my changing pace
And never left my track
So I slowed for the wraith behind me
And stopped on an exit ramp
I locked the doors and waited there
With palms and forehead damp
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