"Israelites"
Desmond Dekker
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Get up in the morning, slaving for bread, sir So that every mouth can be fed Poor, poor me, Israelites. Aah 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 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 your alarm Poor a-poor a-poor me, the Israelite [Instrumental] 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 Poor me, Israelite Poor me, Israelite