Sally in our Alley

Of all the girls that are so smart   There 's none like pretty Sally; She is the darling of my heart,   And she lives in our alley. There is no lady in the land   Is half so sweet as Sally; She is the darling of my heart,   And she lives in our alley. Her father he makes cabbage-nets,   And through the streets does cry 'em; Her mother she sells laces long   To such as please to buy 'em; But sure such folks could ne'er beget   So sweet a girl as Sally! She is the darling of my heart,   And she lives in our alley. When she is by, I leave my work,   I love her so sincerely; My master comes like any Turk,   And bangs me most severely: But let him bang his bellyful,   I'll bear it all for Sally; She is the darling of my heart,   And she lives in our alley. Of all the days that 's in the week   I dearly love but one day— And that 's the day that comes betwixt   A Saturday and Monday; For then I'm drest all in my best   To walk abroad with Sally; She is the darling of my heart,   And she lives in our alley. My master carries me to church,   And often am I blamèd Because I leave him in the lurch   As soon as text is namèd; I leave the church in sermon-time   And slink away to Sally; She is the darling of my heart,   And she lives in our alley. When Christmas comes about again,   O, then I shall have money; I'll hoard it up, and box it all,   I'll give it to my honey: I would it were ten thousand pound,   I'd give it all to Sally; She is the darling of my heart,   And she lives in our alley. My master and the neighbors all   Make gave of me and Sally, And, but for her, I'd better be   A slave and row a galley; But when my seven long years are out,   O, then I'll marry Sally; O, then we'll wed, and then we'll bed—   But not in our alley!