Sing a song of sixpence
   A pocket full of rye
   Four and twenty blackbirds
   Baked in a pie
   When the pie was open
   The birds began to sing
   Now 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
   Sing a song of sixpence
   A pocket full of rye
   Four and twenty blackbirds
   Baked in a pie
   When the pie was open
   The birds began to sing
   Now 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
   When down came a blackbird
   And pecked off her nose