(Poor Mi) Israelites

Get up in the morning, slaving for bread, sir
So that every mouth can be fed
Poor, poor me, Israelites (ah-ah)

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

My wife and my kids, they packed up and a-leave me
Darling, she said, "I was yours to receive"
Poor, 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, poor me, Israelites, hey

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

My wife and my kids, they are packed up and leave me
Darling, she said, "I was yours to receive"
Poor, poor me, Israelites, ah

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

After a storm, there must be a calm
They catch me in the farm, you sound your alarm
Poor, poor me, Israelites, hey-hey-hey
Poor, poor me, Israelites
Dem a wonder we not working so hard
Poor, poor me, Israelites



Credits
Writer(s): Desmond Dekker
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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