Оригинален текст
I'm easy.
I'm easy to please.
Easily amused.
But I'm working hard at getting you back.
I'm easy.
I don't ask for much.
Don't demand or intrude.
But I refuse to let you walk out without a fight.
I've made fruitless attempts to impose my own will.
Represented the vile, reprehensible, yet still
I'm reminded of ideas and images of ill-fated love.
Summoned archaic symbols, mythological beasts.
Felt the crippling hunger,
Stayed in bed for a week.
I thought of killing you slowly,
Still my love for you increased.
No, I could never hurt you,
Still, call a priest.
Cause lately my pain is the result of my own hand.
From the welts on my back,
To my need to understand
How, for some vague simpleton,
You could leave your pastoral man.
Now there's a distinct deviation between faith and trust,
But sometimes little separation
Between loving and lust.
And while we once had it all,
The latter went bust
(At least for one of us)
So, you cut it all down like dead branches from a tree.
'Til ugly and bare, you chopped down the whole thing
And the stump that remained,
You turned it into a seat.
Now we may never be more than two bodiless feet.
But, I wanna grow legs again.
Tongues in our mouths
Hair on our skin.
Well I may seem difficult,
But if you let me back in,
You'll see...
I'm easy.
I'm easy to please.