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 packed up and leave me   Darling, she said, I was yours to be seen      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 calm   They catch me in your farm, you sound your alarm      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 packed up and leave me   Darling, she said, I was yours to be seen      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   Poor me, Israelites   Poor me, Israelites      Poor me, Israelites   Poor me, Israelites