Poverty Is Hell [Song]

Uploaded by charsukaifan

By Shadow

Poverty is hell and the angels are in Paradise
Driving in their limousine where everything is nice and clean
A poor man living in a teeny-weeny hut
The children hungry, nothing in the pot
He gone by the neighbour to beg for some rice
The neighbour under pressure, "Boy, things ent nice."
He gone in the big shot area to beg
A police put a bullet in his peeny-weeny leg
He gone in the courts and he lost the case
The prosecutor say he have a bandit face.

Poverty is hell. Poverty is hell.

Wake up in the morning and the baby cry
The sugar pan empty, the milk bottle dry
The little boy climb on the mango tree
The mango green, hurting up his belly
The young girl bawling, she wouldnt’ settle
She wipe she bumsee with stinging nettle
Toilet paper they never had
They used to tootoo in the gully by the old backyard
They rub she down and they put she to sleep
The rain come down and the house start leak.

Poverty is hell! Poverty is hell!

A poor man always dream a lot of dream
He happy like a puppy when he dream another dream
He dream that he have a new roof on the hut
He dream that he have some good food in the pot
He dream that he have a rich friend name Frank
He dream that he have a lot of cash in the bank
He dream that he pay all his bills for the month
He dream that he have a new car in the front
He dream that he have to go to a fete
He dream that his pocket have a big, fat wallet
He wake up in the night and he rush for his pants
All he found in the pocket was a whole lot of ants.

Poverty is hell! Poverty is hell!

Ten little children, four dumpling
Mummy got to slice them thin, thin, thin
A piece for a boy and a piece for a girl
A piece for the neighbour daughter, Merle
The cat in the corner looking to beg
Little Jack Horner , kick him in he leg
Go in the room and look for a rat
The rat in the roof, he know ‘bout cat
Now the cat see a chickychong, yeah, yeah
He rush for the chickychong
But the poor little chickychong
Flew away like a chickychong
Then cockroach gone in the condensed milk
Mama get vex for she condensed milk
Who leave the condensed milk open?
Come here you picky head, good for nothing
Mama get vex and she blood get hot
She buss some lash in they you-know-what.

Poverty is hell! Poverty is hell!

Source: The lyrics posted on this blog are often transcribed directly from performances. Although it is my intention to faithfully transcribe I do not get all the words and I have a knack for hearing the wrong thing. Please feel free to correct me or to fill in the words that I miss by dropping me a message via e-mail. I'd be forever grateful. Thanks in advance!

A Note From The Gull

Thank you, Shadow! This is the reality for many people who are born into poverty or who, because of circumstances, sometimes beyond their control, can find themselves struggling to survive. I think about this often and it is at the back of mind always that I should be ready to make adjustments if I should find myself in that situation. Anything could happen in this world.

"Patria est communis omnium parens" - Our native land is the common parent of us all. Keep it beautiful, make it even more so.

Blessed is all of creation
Blessed be my beautiful people
Blessed be the day of our awakening
Blessed is my country
Blessed are her patient hills.

Mweh ka allay!