Sing
a song
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 the garden, hanging out the clothes;
Along came a
blackbird and nipped off her nose!