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Israelites - Lyrics


Original lyrics by Desmond Dekker

Poor me Israelites

I get up in the morning slaving for bread, sir
So that every mouth can be fed

Poor me Israelites

My wife and my kids they pack up and leave me
Darling, she said, I was yours to recieve

Poor me Israelites

Well, shirt them a tear-up, trousers are gone
I don't want to end up like Bonnie and Clyde

Poor me Israelites

And after a storm there must be a calming
They catch me in your farm, you sound your alarm

Poor me Israelites

Instrumental

I get up in the morning slaving for bread, sir
So that every mouth can be fed

Poor me Israelites

My wife and my kids they pack up and leave me
Darling, she said, I was yours to recieve

Poor me Israelites

Shirt them a tear-up, trousers are gone
I don't want to end up like Bonnie and Clyde

Poor me Israelites

I don't want to end up like Bonnie and Clyde

Poor me Israelites
Poor me Israelites
I don't want to end up like Bonnie and Clyde

Poor me Israelites
Poor me Israelites