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 the counting-house, counting out his money
The queen was in the parlour, eating bread and honey
The maid was in the garden, hanging out the clothes
When down came a blackbird and pecked off her nose


© El Bebe Productions Limited

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