The Emptiness of Spirit

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 it comes 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 asshole'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