I knew a window cleaner, mister Berry was his name

He had a magic bucket, please let me explain

He’d fill it in the morning, and then be on his way

And with a single pail of water, he could wash windows all the day


Oh where do ye fill your bucket, Mr Berry, tell me where

The auld ones all are jealous of its properties so rare

Do you get it straight from Lourdes

or from the Wicklow glens?

PLEASE LET’S in on your secret

when YOU’RE fillin’ it up again

LET’S in on your secret

When YOU’RE fillin’ it up again


I was told when he was young he’d had a terrible fall

The story it was well known all around the whole East Wall

But even at an early age he swore he’d never beg

He’d rather be climbing ladders with his wooden leg


He’d ramble with his ladder, stretched across his bike

His bucket on the handlebars, dainty as ye like

Finishing on the Church Road each day at half past three

Winking at the auld ones who ask him in for tea


If you’re having trouble with you warts or limping with your gout

It’s the best of medication of that there is no doubt

And even if your loved on has left without a trace

A rub of Berry’s chamois will put a smile back on your face


Molly Dunne says it’s the one for curing any ails

I’m sure she’s right; she’s never sick, as tough as bloody nails

If your husbands been neglecting you and hasn’t been doing it right

Just a few drops on your negligee and he’ll keep you up all night