I watched irish folk legend christy moore play this song its really easy;] Richard Thompson BEESWING verse:

^FI was 18 when I came to town they called it the summer of love ^FBurning babies burning flags the ^Ghawks against the ^Fdoves ^FI took a job at the steaming way down on Caltrim St, ^FFell in love with a laundry girl that was ^Gworkin next to ^Fme. ^FBrown hair zig zagged across her face and a look of half surprise, ^FLike a fox caught in the headlights there was ^Ganimal in her ^Feyes, ^FShe said to me can't you see I'm not the factory kind, ^FIf you don't take me out of here I'll ^Gsurely lose my ^Fmind

Chorus:

S^DMhe was a rare thing fine as a^F bee's wing ^DMSo fine a breath of ^Gwind might blow her ^Faway ^DMShe was a lost child, she was ^Frunnin' wild (she said) ^DMSo long as theres no ^Gprice on love I'll ^Fstay Yo^DMu wouldn't want ^Gme any other ^Fway.

We busked around the market towns fruit pickin down in kent We could tinker pots and pans or knives wherever we went. We were campin down the Gower one time, the work was mighty good. She wouldn't wait for the harvest, I thought we should. I said to her we'll settle down, get a few acres dug, A fire burning in the hearth and babbies on the rug. She said Oh man you foolish man that surely sounds like hell, You might be lord of half the world,You'll not own me as well Chorus We were drinking more in those days our tempers reached a pitch Like a fool I let her run away when she took the rambling itch. Last I heard she was living rough back on the Derby beat A bottle of White Horse in her pocket, a Wolfhound at her feet They say that she got married once to a man called Romany Brown Even a gypsy caravan was too much like settlin' down They say her rose has faded, rough weather and hard booze, Maybe thats the price you pay for the chains that you refuse She was a rare thing, fine as a bee's wing I miss her more than ever words can say If I could just taste all of her wildness now If I could hold her in my arms today.....

Richard Thompson - Beeswing