IsraelitesDesmond Dekker
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歌曲名：Israelites 歌手：Desmond Dekker 所属专辑：《King of Ska [Varese]》
作词：未知 作曲：未知 发行公司：Varese 发行时间：1991-02-14
语言： 大小：2.56 MB 时长：02:48秒 比特率：129K 评分：0.0分
介绍：《Israelites》 是 Desmond Dekker 演唱的歌曲，时长02分48秒，由未知作词，未知作曲，该歌曲收录在Desmond Dekker1991年的专辑《King of Ska [Varese]》之中，如果您觉得好的话，就把这首歌分享给您的朋友共同查看歌词，一起支持歌手Desmond Dekker吧！
Israelites文本歌词
Get up in the morning, slaving for bread, sir,
So that every mouth can be fed.
Poor me, Israelites.
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 a 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.
After a storm there must be a calming.
You catch me in your farm, you sound your alarm.
Poor me, Israelites.
I said I get up in the morning, stabbing for bread, sir,
So that every mouth can be fed.
Poor me, Israelites.
Said my wife and my kids, they pack up and a leave me.
"Darling," she said "I was yours to recieve."
Poor me, Israelites.
Look, me shirt them a-tear up, trousers are gone.
I don't want to end up like Bonnie and Clyde.
Poor me, Israelites.
After a storm there must be a calming.
You catch me in your farm, you sound your alarm.
Poor me, Israelites.
Poor me, Israelites.
I'm wonder why I'm working so hard.
Poor me, Israelites.
I look down and out, sir.
编辑于2023/05/08更新
So that every mouth can be fed.
Poor me, Israelites.
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 a 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.
After a storm there must be a calming.
You catch me in your farm, you sound your alarm.
Poor me, Israelites.
I said I get up in the morning, stabbing for bread, sir,
So that every mouth can be fed.
Poor me, Israelites.
Said my wife and my kids, they pack up and a leave me.
"Darling," she said "I was yours to recieve."
Poor me, Israelites.
Look, me shirt them a-tear up, trousers are gone.
I don't want to end up like Bonnie and Clyde.
Poor me, Israelites.
After a storm there must be a calming.
You catch me in your farm, you sound your alarm.
Poor me, Israelites.
Poor me, Israelites.
I'm wonder why I'm working so hard.
Poor me, Israelites.
I look down and out, sir.
编辑于2023/05/08更新
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