I was crossing the country, from west to east
Catching rides, my shadow and I, sleeping in between
A white van pulled in tight thirty yards ahead
Sunset and red red dust, into the passenger seat I slid
Said hi to the driver, who didn't break his stare
I felt a strange connection crackling through the air
A set of oncoming headlights, a pair of black Ray-Bans
Skinhead and denim shoulders, I knew I loved this man
Without a word I leaned over to caress his face
I saw him smile, but my fingers held only empty space
It was a ghost car with a ghost driver on a haunted highway
Ghost car, ghost driver