Still searching for my memory
But there's so much highway in between it and me
And these rows of clouds look like tombstones over me
I guess that I must be buried here beneath
And I wonder how this poor hole got its name
From some ghost who floats over the Indiana plain
Four in the morning with four cops or more
In the parking lot and one at my neighbors door
But he won't come out anymore
Another casualty in a silent war
And I wonder which one up there bears your name
Of all these ghosts floating over the Indiana plain