The Chimbley Sweep

The Decemberists

I am a chimbley, a chimbley sweep 
No bed to lie, no shoes to hold my feet 
Upon the rooftops 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