Lyrics:

Get up in the morning, slaving for bread, sir
So that every mouth can be fed
Poor me, the Israelite, ah

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 pack up and leave me
Darling, she said, I was yours to be seen
Poor, poor me, the Israelite

Shirt them a-tear up, trousers are go
I don't want to end up like Bonnie and Clyde
Poor me, the Israelite

After a storm there must be a calm
If they catch me in the farm, you sound your alarm
Poor, poor, poor me, the Israelite, yee

I said I get up in the morning, slaving for bread, sir
So that every mouth can be fed
Poor me, the Israelite, ah

I said my wife and my kids, they pack up and leave me
Darling, she said, I was yours to be seen
Poor me, the Israelite

Look, me shirt them a-tear up, trousers are go
I don't want to end up like Bonnie and Clyde
Poor, poor me, the Israelite, ah

After a storm there must be a calm
If they catch me in the farm, you sound your alarm
Poor, poor me, the Israelite, yee-ee-ee

Poor, poor, poor, poor me, the Israelite
I'm wondering and working so hard
Poor, poor, poor, poor me, the Israelite
I look down and out, sir