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 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.
They sent for the king´s doctor,
Who sewed it on again;
He sewed it on so neatly,
The seam was never seen.
I love this
ReplyDeletecheers mate
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