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

wasn’t that a dainty dish

to set before the king?

the king was in his counting house

counting out his money

the queen was in the parlour

eating bread and honey

the maid was in me garden

hanging out the clothes

when down came a blackbird

and pecked off her nose