Me and my, uh, mother and father
And a grandmother and grandfather
Were driving through the desert, at dawn
And a truck load of Indian workers had
Either hit another car, or just
I don't know what happened
But there were Indians scattered
All over the highway, bleeding to death
So the car pulls up and stops
That was the first time I tasted fear
I musta been about four
Like a child is like a flower
His head is just floating in the breeze, man
The reaction I get now thinking about it, looking back
Is that the souls of the ghosts of those dead Indians
Maybe one or two of 'em
Were just running around freaking out
And just leaped into my soul
And they're still in there

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