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