I am a simple man

An easy one to make a friend

A fault some people say

But I bear this simple creed

You never know by one kind deed

The good it brings your way

Take the plowman for example

I would meet him the fields

Walking after morning prayer

He, a rough and tumble landsman

I, a scholar of the Law,

It’s just a greeting that we shared

No creature’s more humane than man

And surely none that can be crueler

And so every day we’d pass

I’d place my faith in the good and I’d say

Good Morning, Herr Mueller

Good Morning

 

Now war came on silently

With yellow stars and signs that read

Keinen Juden kommen hier

I took my walks less frequently

The plowman’s field seemed far from me

Across a town of fear

And when the final roundup came

They took the women first

I lost my Sophie then

Trying to go on I had my faith in God

And something of my faith in man

Passing by a soldier

I would want to look away

But then I would grow bolder

And remembering myself

I’d place my faith in the good and I’d say

Good Morning, Herr Mueller

Good Morning

 

For three years I was shipped on trains

From camp to camp, ‘til gaunt and lame

One day Auschwitz loomed ahead

I’d heard of the selections there

And being naught but bones I feared

I’d only leave there dead

But soon we’re on the platform

And they’ve formed us in a line

Up ahead a man in black

Pointing with his finger to the

Right or to the Left

If Left you’re never coming back

Suddenly I caught the voice

Coming from up front

One I’d known when times were good

And looking up I saw

That farmer’s face I knew

Maybe it was habit

But I knew just what to do, I said

Good Morning, Herr Mueller

Good Morning

 

Looking up he caught my glance

And without cracking a smile he said

“Good Morning, Rabbi,”

Then he pondered for a while

I saw him raise his hand

And I shut my eyes tight

And when I opened my eyes

He was pointing to the Right

I said

Good Morning, Herr Mueller

Good Morning