Sing a song of sixpence,A pocket full of rye.
Four and twenty black-bird,Backed in a pie.
When the pie was opened,The birds began to sing.
Wasn't that a dainty dish to set before the king.
Sing a song of sixpence,A pocket full of rye.
Four and twenty black-bird,Backed 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 home, Counting out his money.
The queen was in the palace, eating bread and honey.
The maid was in the garden, hanging out the clothes.
Down flew a black-bird,and packed off her nose.
Sing a song of sixpence,A pocket full of rye.
Four and twenty black-bird,Backed in a pie.
When the pie was opened,The birds began to sing.
Wasn't that a dainty dish to set before the king.