Mojo's Beads

Me and my uh, mother and father

And 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 of 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