Sing a Song of Sixpence

Sing a song of sixpence, a pocketful of rye

Four-and-twenty blackbirds, baked in a pie

When the pie was opened, the birds began to sing

Oh, 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

Along came a blackbird and snipped off her nose

Sing a song of sixpence, a pocketful of rye

Four-and-twenty blackbirds, baked in a pie

When the pie was opened, the birds began to sing

Oh, wasn't that a dainty dish to set before the King?