Me and my -ah- mother and father
And a grandmother and a 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 must 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 them
Were just running around freaking out, and just leaped into my soul
And they're still in there