Desmond Dekker - Israelites

Get up in the morning, slaving for bread, sirSo that every mouth can be fedPoor, poor me, Israelites, aahGet up in the morning, slaving for bread, sirSo that every mouth can be fedPoor me, the IsraeliteMy wife and my kids, they packed up and leave meDarling, she said, "I was yours to be seen"Poor me, the IsraeliteShirt them a-tear up, trousers are goneI don't want to end up like Bonnie and-Poor me, the Israelite (Bonnie and Clyde)After a storm there must be a calmThey catch me in the farmYou sound your alarmPoor, poor me, IsraelitesI said I get up in the morning, slaving for bread, sirSo that every mouth can be fedPoor me, Israelite, aahMy wife and my kids, they are packed up and leave meDarling, she said, I was yours to be seenPoor me, Israelites, aahShow them my tear up trousers are goneI don't want to end up like Bonnie and-A-poor a-poor me, Israelites (like Bonnie and Clyde)After a storm, there must be a calmThey catch me in the farmYou sound your alarmPoor me, IsraelitePoor, poor me, IsraelitesPoor me, IsraelitePoor me, IsraelitePoor me, IsraelitePoor me, IsraelitePoor me, IsraelitePoor me, Israelite