The Broom and the Shovel, the Poker and Tongs, They all took a drive in the Park, and they each sang a song, Ding-a-dong, Ding-a-dong, Before they went back in the dark. Mr Poker he sate quite upright in the coach, Mr Tongs made a clatter and clash, Miss Shovel was dressed all in black (with a brooch), Mrs Broom was in blue (with a sash). Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong! And they all sang a song! 'O Shovely so lovely!' the Poker he sang, 'You have perfectly conquered my heart! Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong! If you're pleased with my song, I will feed you with cold apple tart! When you scrape up the coals with a delicate sound, You enrapture my life with delight! Your nose is so shiny! your head is so round! And your shape is so slender and bright! Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong! Ain't you pleased with my song?'
'Alas! Mrs Broom!' sighed the Tongs in his song, 'O is it because I'm so thin, And my legs are so long - Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong! That you don't care about me a pin? Ah! fairest of creatures, when sweeping the room, Ah! why don't you heed my complaint! Must you needs be so cruel, you beautiful Broom, Because you are covered with paint! Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong! You are certainly wrong!' Mrs Broom and Miss Shovel together they sang, 'What nonsense you're singing today!' Said the Shovel, 'I'll certainly hit you a bang!' Said the Broom, 'And I'll sweep you away!' So the Coachman drove homeward as fast as he could, Perceiving their anger with pain; But they put on the kettle, and little by little, They all became happy again. Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong! There's an end of my song!