Track byParis Music
Get up in the morning, slaving for bread, sir So that every mouth can be fed Poor me, the Israelite, ah Get up in the morning, slaving for bread, sir So that every mouth can be fed Poor me, the Israelite My wife and my kids, they pack up and leave me Darling, she said, I was yours to be seen Poor, poor me, the Israelite Shirt them a-tear up, trousers are go I don't want to end up like Bonnie and Clyde Poor me, the Israelite After a storm there must be a calm If they catch me in the farm, you sound your alarm Poor, poor, poor me, the Israelite, yee I said I get up in the morning, slaving for bread, sir So that every mouth can be fed Poor me, the Israelite, ah I said my wife and my kids, they pack up and leave me Darling, she said, I was yours to be seen Poor me, the Israelite Look, me shirt them a-tear up, trousers are go I don't want to end up like Bonnie and Clyde Poor, poor me, the Israelite, ah After a storm there must be a calm If they catch me in the farm, you sound your alarm Poor, poor me, the Israelite, yee-ee-ee Poor, poor, poor, poor me, the Israelite I'm wondering and working so hard Poor, poor, poor, poor me, the Israelite I look down and out, sir