The Israelites

Get up in the morning, slaving for bread, sir So that every mouth can be fed Poor me Israelites Aah Get up in the morning, slaving for bread, sir So that every mouth can be fed Poor me Israelite My wife and my kids, they packed up and leave me Darling, she said, I was yours to be seen Poor me Israelite Shirt them a-tear up, trousers is 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 your alarm Poor a-poor a-poor me Israelite I said I get up in the morning, slaving for bread, sir So that every mouth can be fed Poor me Israelite Aah I said my wife and my kids, they are packed up and leave me Darling, she said, I was yours to be seen Poor me Israelites Aah Look Me shirts them a-tear up, trousers are gone I don't want to end up like Bonnie and Clyde A-poor a-poor me Israelites Aah After a storm there must be a calm They catch me in the farm You sound your alarm Poor me Israelite A-poor a-poor a-poor me Israelites Aah Writers: DESMOND DEKKER Lyrics licensed by LyricFind