Lyrics
My wife used to say she couldn't understand
Why I make my living working with my hands
She met a junk bond daddy and he broke up my home
He made his living on the telephone

Daddy spied my darling and he dialed her number then
They took off next morning and she won't he back again
I might not be good looking and I never been to school
But I patched up my broken home using simple tools

Simple tools, simple tools, I like simple tools
I'm just a common ordinary workaday fool
I might not be the brightest bulb or the straightest route
But I can mend my broken heart using simple tools
And I can talk to girls in bars, well maybe a few
We'd drink a little glass of wine or maybe two
I might wake up in gay Paree or good old San Berdoo
The gals appreciate a man that uses simple tools

I won't be walking 'round all night, wonderin' what to do
I won't be calling up the morgue askin' for you
Or beating down these memories with one of your old shoes
I can do the job in half the time using simple tools

I'm just a common ordinary workaday fool
I might not be the brightest bulb or the straightest rule,
But I can do the job in half the time
Using simple tools, simple tools

Copyright: Wixen Music Publishing
Writer(s): RY COODER




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