Poor me, Israelites



I get up in the morning slaving for bread, sir

So that every mouth can be fed



Poor me, Israelites



My wife and my kids they packed up and leave me

Darling, she said, I was yours to be seen



Poor me, Israelites



Well, shirt them a tear-up, trousers are gone

I don't want to end up like Bonnie and Clyde



Poor me, Israelites



And after a storm there must be a calm

They catch me in your farm, you sound your alarm



Poor me, Israelites



I get up in the morning slaving for bread, sir

So that every mouth can be fed



Poor me, Israelites



My wife and my kids they packed up and leave me

Darling, she said, I was yours to be seen



Poor me, Israelites



Shirt them a tear-up, trousers are gone

I don't want to end up like Bonnie and Clyde



Poor me, Israelites

Poor me, Israelites

Poor me, Israelites



Poor me, Israelites

Poor me, Israelites



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