Erik Hårdstedt - Ghosts of freedom Lyrics

Watching easy rider in my neighbours living room
Dennis and the Captain riding right into the sun
With that money in the tank
And wherever they were heading
I would like to go there too
And catch up with those Ghosts of freedom
Following the footsteps of Sisley and Monet
With my easel and my straw hat and oil paint stains everywhere
I embodied the cliches the changing seasons I did paint
I was one with it all
Not burdened by the ghosts of freedom
First time getting plastered
I finally felt I mastered
The ever puzzling social game i struggled with before
I was feeling like the real me had finally seen the light of day
Astonished by my bravery I knew id found a better way
I was drinking to the ghost of freedom
Entertaining ambiguous situationships here and there
Just enough to keep the flames alive
Freaked out by intimacy I never stayed around to see
The root to all that triggered me
Free is love and love is free
Open is the endless sea
Of love and opportunity
According to the Ghosts of freedom
When I came to the land of truth I was feeling like a king
My sisters in crime and I were dancing down the street
The beggars were the walk-ins in our ignorant blissful play
The sisters picked the cherries, I was ripping up the tree
By the root to impress the Ghosts of freedom
Arguing debating, trying to be right
Trying to be well red and win each verbal fight
Flirting with opinions and ideologies
To have something to hold on to, on that vast open sea
Not that I was ever very opinionated or advocated
For any other values or any other rights
Than the the rights to pursue my ghosts of freedom
Searching for a commune, searching for a cult
Or a roving band of minstrels dancing through the night
Searching for a school of thoughts a movement or a path
Or lover who could show me
A way to love beyond those ghosts of freedom
Dreaming bout that country home when the city got too rough
A place where I could breath and let my idiosyncrasies
Manifest and merge
With my prayers in the evening wind
Trying to reach the ghosts of freedom
Building without permit, unable to abide
Soulless Babylonian uptight bureaucracy
You can't label this a house it's a temple a monument
A statement and a home
A portal for those ghosts of freedom
Next thing was an era of psychedelic enterprise
In which for better or worse I entered rather late in life
Like an unborn child cast in to the outskirts of infinity
The tears I spoke were shining ever brighter than the sound
Melting with the Ghosts of freedom
Dipping down them restless toes in the eightfold noble stream
Neutral observing crumbs of love between my dreams
In the Waters known to cure the woes of shallow godless minds
After years of running from myself with no place left to hide
I broke a vicious circle, but i still fall back sometimes
When tempted by those ghosts of freedom
My Father often talked about the wild geese and his dreams
To be soaring on the thermals high above the sea
Dreamy eyed he scanned the skies as the equinox drew near
Though he never spend a dime on flights throughout his life
But soon he will be flying
Soon he will be flying
Soon he will be flying with the ghost of freedom