Gay go up and gay go down,
To ring the bells of London town.
Oranges and lemons,
Say the bells of St. Clements.
Bull’s eyes and targets,
Say the bells of St. Marg’ret’s.
Brickbats and tiles,
Say the bells of St. Giles’.
Halfpence and farthings,
Say the bells of St. Martin’s.
Pancakes and fritters,
Say the bells of St. Peter’s.
Two sticks and an apple,
Say the bells of Whitechapel.
Pokers and tongs,
Say the bells of St. John’s.
Kettles and pans,
Say the bells of St. Ann’s.
Old Father Baldpate,
Say the slow bells of Aldgate.
You owe me ten shillings,
Say the bells of St. Helen’s.
When will you pay me?
Say the bells of Old Bailey.
When I grow rich,
Say the bells of Shoreditch.
Pray when will that be?
Say the bells of Stepney.
I do not know,
Says the great bell of Bow.
Here comes a candle to light you to bed,
Here comes a chopper to chop off your head.
Chop chop chop chop
The last man’s dead!
(Source: whoatherejinbo)
Gay go up and gay go down, To ring the bells of London town. Oranges and lemons, Say the bells of St. Clements. Bull’s...
Oranges and Lemons
Nope, mom defs sang the last verse. Don’t you remember the creepy high-pitched Wicked Witch of the West voice she used?
She totally did. Wow. Suddenly our childhood is slightly more morbid… though I’m pretty sure mom never got to the last...
This is creepy enough out of context.
My grandma used to sing me this when I as little, but she must have missed out the last bit because I don’t remember...