Get up in the morning
Slaving for bread, sir
So that every mouth
Can be fed

Poor me, the Israelite

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 are packed up and leave me
Darling, she said
I was yours to be seen

Poor me, the Israelite

Shirt them a-tear up
Trousers are gone
I don't want to end up
Like Bonnie and Clyde

Poor me, the Israelite

After a storm
There must be a calm
They catch me in the farm
You sound the alarm

Poor me, the Israelite

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 are packed up and leave me
Darling, she said
I was yours to be seen

Poor me, the Israelite

Shirt them a-tear up
Trousers are gone
I don't want to end up
Like Bonnie and Clyde

Poor me, Israelite

After a storm
There must be a calm
They catch me in the farm
You sound the alarm

Poor me, Israelite
Poor me, Israelite
Poor me, Israelite
Poor