Get up in the morning, slaving for bread, sir,
So that 1 mouth can be fed.
Poor me, Israelites.

Get up in the morning, slaving for 2 , sir,
So that every mouth can be fed.
Poor me, Israelites.

My 3 and my kids, they pack up and a leave me.
"Darling," she said "I was yours to recieve."
Poor me, 4 .

Shirt them a-tear up, trousers are gone.
I don't want to end up like 5 and Clyde.
Poor me, Israelites.

After a storm there must be a calming.
You 6 me in your farm, you sound your alarm.
Poor me, Israelites.

I 7 I get up in the morning, stabbing for bread, sir,
So that every 8 can be fed.
Poor me, Israelites.

Said my wife and my kids, they pack up and a 9 me.
"Darling," she said "I was yours to recieve."
Poor me, Israelites.

Look, me shirt them a-tear up, trousers are gone.
I don't want to end up like Bonnie and Clyde.
Poor me, Israelites.

After a storm there must be a calming.
You catch me in your farm, you sound your alarm.
Poor me, Israelites.

Poor me, Israelites.
I'm wonder why I'm working so hard.
Poor me, Israelites.
I look down and out, sir.