How many paths must a man walk down until you call him a man
And if it isn't good I understand With different rights

The days to settle down,
To hear what's going low
There's a bitter old ghost
And a side trail every morning

How many paths must a man walk down until you call him a man
And when [bad word] to this Easily for those with beer, Honey Waiting

The days to settle down,
To hear what's going low

And it's in the wind
The spirit blowing the answer
To an [bad word] s face
Not to swear for nothing,
In synchronicity that's even still perfect

There's a bitter old ghost and a side trail every morning