The Chimbley Sweep

I am a chimbley, a chimbley sweep.
No bed to lie, no shoes to hold my feet.
On a rooftop in dead of night
You’ll hear me cry I’ll shake you from your sleep

To hear me weep. Your day will come indeed.
For I am a poor and a wretched boy,
Chimbley Chimbley Sweep.

I am an orphan, an orphan boy.
I’ve known no love; I’ve seen no mother’s joy.
On a dirty doorstep, my cradle lay.
My fortune made I’ll shake you from your sleep

To hear me weep. Your day will come indeed.
For I am a poor and a wretched boy,
Chimbley Chimbley Sweep.

A lonely urchin, The widow cries.
I’ve not been swept since the day my husband died.
Her cheeks are blushing, her legs lay bare.
And shipwrecked there I’ll shake you from your sleep

To hear me weep. Your day will come indeed.
For I am a poor and a wretched boy,
Chimbley Chimbley Sweep.
For I am a poor and a wretched boy,
Chimbley Chimbley Sweep.