Sing a song of sixpence
Sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye;
Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie.
When the pie was opened, the birds began to sing;
Was not that a dainty dish to set before the king?
The King was in his countinghouse, counting out his money;
The Queen was in the parlor eating bread and honey.
The maid was in the garden, hanging out the clothes;
When along came a blackbird and snipped off her nose
There was such a commotion
That little Jenny Wren
Flew down into the garden
And popped it back again!
That little Jenny Wren
Flew down into the garden
And popped it back again!
Thanks to Pat Wills for that final verse!
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