Teksty: Mick Hucknall. Tribute to Bobby. Poverty.

Up every morning with the sun
I work all day till the evening comes
Blisters and corns all in my hands
Lord, have mercy on a working man

I guess I'm gonna die just like I?m living
In poverty

My pay goes down and my tax goes up
I drink my tea from a broken cup
Between my woman and Uncle Sam
I can't figure out whose fool I am

I guess I'm gonna die just like I'm living
In poverty

Oh Lord, it's so hard but it's fair
Everybody talks but nobody really cares, Lord

I can't save a dime, can't buy me one cent
I pay my bills, I can't pay my rent
The old lady's fussing and the kids are crying
They won't let me join the welfare line

I guess I'm gonna die just like I'm living
In poverty

They say there?s one poverty
They say it's going around now
But all I need is people, oh Lord
They're trying to keep you down now, oh

Poverty, that's where I'm gonna stay now
Oh Lord, it seems that?s where I?m gonna stay