Israelites Lyrics

Poor me, IsraelitesI get up in the morning slaving for bread, sir
So that every mouth can be fedPoor me, IsraelitesMy wife and my kids they packed up and leave me
Darling, she said, I was yours to be seenPoor me, IsraelitesWell, shirt them a tear-up, trousers are gone
I dont want to end up like Bonnie and ClydePoor me, IsraelitesAnd after a storm there must be a calm
They catch me in your farm, you sound your alarmPoor me, IsraelitesI get up in the morning slaving for bread, sir
So that every mouth can be fedPoor me, IsraelitesMy wife and my kids they packed up and leave me
Darling, she said, I was yours to be seenPoor me, IsraelitesShirt them a tear-up, trousers are gone
I dont want to end up like Bonnie and ClydePoor me, Israelites
Poor me, Israelites
Poor me, IsraelitesPoor me, Israelites
Poor me, Israelites