Every decent man and woman
It’s true what I say,
That everyone who wants to earn a living
Must think of some trade;
Some to sea and some to the mountain,
Some to the glens and some to the seashores,
So that poverty doesn’t pester them every day,
Some are drovers through all complications
Some in all kinds of jobs lest they sink,
In furious fuss to avoid poverty.

The smithy and the joiner partake in this
And the cobbler’s clan and the tailor,
the rough tanner and the skinner
and the painful weaver and the furrier.
And the tinkers they’re a’ tinkering
And the miller’s they’re a’ milling
And pouring all that they can.
Bricklayers, masons who are quite busy,
Nailors, tailors who are questioning
Every employment to avoid poverty.

And the men of law with cross intentions
and a liking for freedom, and the priests,
Tythers, taxmen and pure stitchers
And the shapely men of shops,
Clockers, doctors that co-act,
And the butchers with a fake wind,
Sometimes slaughtering and sometimes skinning,
Flaxmen, turners full of dictatorship,
Glovers, saddlers and the swift heeler
Everybody fleeing from poverty

the quarryman, mole-catcher and the terrible chalkier,
The hedge weaver and the animal feeder,
Exisemen, and the supervisor who’s a prick,
the tricksy impatients and the barber.
The Brazer, the cutler, the peddler, the puddler,
The collier, the miner, the painter, the printer,
The dyer, the wool-carder, the piper, the baker,
Carrying pots and correcting putty
And fishing and basket-making
Every employment to avoid poverty.

The timber-hauler and the narrow saw man
With his rustic shaving horse,
Balladeers, ragmen, quick cloggers,
and the valiant jaggers.
Peeling bark, cutting and smoothing,

Cording and burning, carrying and dragging,
Forgers, founders, everybody floundering,
Swift and quick sailors and soldiers,
And their officers that are swearing,
They rip nations apart to avoid poverty

The pub landlord, the brewer, heavy handed victors,
And the poor sheep’s ear marker full of cold,
The Soapier, the candle maker, the wax worker,
The sweep and the sour cobbler,
The Hatter, the clocker, the honest gardener,
The roofer and the cooper with eager heads
And the turn-piker with his pointy nose,
Hundreds of wagons and carts
And the jesters putting their back into it
grumpily driving from poverty

Some strolling through town and country
With some vain miracles to sell
Some crying in doorways
some singing complaints.
The Harper, the fiddler, the jockey, the drover,
The bailey, the constable, the jailer, the hangman,
Some misleading and some thieves,
Like this it worries them every day
In their own homes tey are but servants,
Every employment to avoid poverty.