The Chimbley Sweep - The Decemberists

I am a chimbley, a chimbley sweep

No bed to lie, no shoes to hold my feet

Upon the 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

A chimbley, chimbley sweep.»

I am an orphan, an orphan boy

I’ve known no love, I’ve seen no mother’s joy

A dirty doorstep my cradle laid

My fortune’s 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

A chimbley, chimbley sweep.»

«O lonely urchin!»

the widow cried

«I've not been swept since the day my husband died.»

Her cheeks are blushing, her legs laid 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

A chimbley, chimbley sweep.»

For I am a poor and a wretched boy

A chimbley, chimbley sweep