Sing a song of sixpence, pocket full of rye
Hush-a bye my baby, no need to be crying
You can burn the midnight oil with me as long as you will
Stare out at the moon upon the windowsill
And dream
Sing a song of sixpence, pocket full of rye
Hush-a bye my baby, no need to be crying
There's dew drops on the window sill, gumdrops in your head
Slipping into dream land, you're nodding your head
So dream
Dream of West Virginia, or of the British Isles
'Cause when you are dreaming, you see for miles and miles
When you are much older, remember when we sat
At midnight on the windowsill, and had this little chat
And dream
Come on and dream
Come on and dream
And dream, and dream
Come on and dream
