“Oranges and lemons,” say the bells of St. Clements;
“You owe me five farthings,” say the bells of St. Martins;
“When will you pay me?” say the bells of Old Bailey;
“When I grow rich,” say the bells of Shoreditch;
“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,
And here comes a chopper to chop off your head!