When You Got Nothin' / You Got

How Many Roads Must A Man Walk Down, Before You Call Him A Man? How Many Seas Must A White Dove Sail, Before She Sleeps In The Sand? Yes, And How Many Times Must The Cannon Balls Fly, Before They're Forever Banned?

It's Hard To Speculate What Tomorrow May Bring.

My Senses Have Been Stripped, My Hands Can't Feel To Grip, My Toes To Numb To Step, Wait Only For My Boot Heels To Be Wandering.

It's East To See Without Lookin' Too Far That Not Much Is Really Sacred.

The Answer Is Blowin' In The Wind.