I've messed with the words a bit, Skarpi:

Come all brother tradesmen that travel along;
Oh, pray come and tell me where the trade is all gone.
Long time I have traveled and cannot find none,
And it's,

Cho: Oh, the hard times of Old Iceland,
In Old Iceland very hard times.

Provisions you buy at the shop, it is true,
But, if you've no money, there's none there for you.
So, what's a poor man and his family to do?
And it's,

If you go to a shop and you ask for a job,
They will answer you there with a shake and a nod;
So, that's enough to make a man turn out and rob.
And it's,

You will see the poor tradesman a-walking the street
From morning till night, for employment to seek,
And scarcely they've got any shoes to their feet.
And it's,

And now to conclude and to finish my song,
Let us hope that these hard times they will not last long;
I hope soon to have occasion to alter my song.
And it's,
Oh, the good times of Old Iceland,
In Old Ice-ah-land jolly good times.