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