Up every morning at five, it's a wonder that we're still alive
Stretching and yawning in this cold morning
It's back to the dreary old drive
And it's poverty poverty knock, my loom it is a saying all day
Poverty poverty knock, gaffer's too skinny to pay
Poverty poverty knock, always one eye on the clock and
I know I can guttle when I hear my shuttle go, 'poverty poverty knock'
Oh dear I'm going to be late
Gaffer is stood on the gate
I'll be out of pocket, me wages he'll dock it
I'll have to buy bread on the slate
Sometimes a shuttle flies out
And gives some poor weaver a clout
There she lies bleeding with nobody heeding
And no-one to carry her out
Tattler should fettle my loom
But he'd rather sit on his bum
He's far too busy a-courting our Lizzie
And I cannot get him to come
Our Lizzie's so easily led
I think that he takes her to bed
She used to be skinny, now look at her pinny
I think that it were time they were wed
