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How Will I Ever Be Simple Again
by
Richard Thompson
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Oh she danced in the street with the guns all around her All torn like a rag doll, barefoot in the rain And she sang like a child, toora-day toora-daddy Oh how will I ever be simple again She sat by the banks of the dirty grey river And tried for a fish with a worm on a pin There was nothing but fever and ghosts in the water Oh how will I ever be simple again War was my love and my friend and companion And what did I care for the pretty and plain But her smile was so clear and my heart was so troubled Oh how will I ever be simple again In her poor burned-out house I sat at her table The smell of her hair was like cornfields in May And I wanted to weep and my eyes ached from trying Oh how will I ever be simple again So graceful she moved through the dust and the ruin And happy she was in her dances and games Oh teach me to see with your innocent eyes, love Oh how will I ever be simple again Oh how will I ever be simple again
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