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lyrics

Up every morning at five
I wonder that we keep alive
Tired and yawning in the cold morning
It’s back to the dreary old drive
Oh no, we’re going to be late
Gaffer is stood at the gate
Now we’re out of pocket, our wages they’re dockit
We’ll have to buy grub on the slate

Poverty, poverty knock - my loom it is saying all day
Poverty, poverty knock - gaffer’s too skinflint to pay
Poverty, poverty knock - keeping one eye on the clock
I know I can guttle when I hear my shuttle go poverty, poverty knock

Then when our wages they bring
We’re often short of a string
And while we’re fratching with the guvnor for snatching
We know to his brass he will cling
We’ve got to wet our own yarn
By dipping it into the tarn
It’s wet and it’s soggy and makes us feel groggy
And there’s mice in that dirty old barn

Poverty, poverty knock - my loom it is saying all day
Poverty, poverty knock - gaffer’s too skinflint to pay
Poverty, poverty knock - keeping one eye on the clock
I know I can guttle when I hear my shuttle go poverty, poverty knock

Oh my poor head how it sings
I should’ve woven six strings
But my back it is aching, the threads they are breaking,
Oh God how I wish I had wings
Sometimes a shuttle flies out
Gives some poor woman a clout
While she lies there bleeding there’s nobody heeding
Who’s going to carry her out?

Poverty, poverty knock - my loom it is saying all day
Poverty, poverty knock - gaffer’s too skinflint to pay
Poverty, poverty knock - keeping one eye on the clock
I know I can guttle when I hear my shuttle go poverty, poverty knock

Up every morning at five
I wonder that we keep alive
Tired and yawning in the cold morning
It’s back to the dreary old drive

credits

from A Life Spent Staring At Chairs, released April 9, 2018
Traditional song, arranged by Paul Carbuncle.

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Paul Carbuncle Nottingham, UK

You can take the lad out of Pluckley but he'll still sing about hops.

Profile photo by Hugh Miller.

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