[Chorus 'Poverty poverty knock,' my loom is a saying all day Poverty poverty knock, gaffer's too skinny 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.
Oh dear we're going to be late Gaffer is stood at the gate We're out of pockets, our wages they'll dock it We'll have to buy grub on the slate
And when our wages they'll bring, we're often short of a string While we are fighting with gaffer for snatching (?) We know to his breast he will cling
Sometimes a shuttle flies out and gives some poor woman a clout There she lies bleeding but nobody's heeding Oh who's going to carry her out?
Oh dear, my poor head it sings I should have woven three strings My threads are breaking and my back is aching Oh dear, I wish I had wings