Sing-a-Song of Sixpence
Sing-a-song of sixpence,
A pocket full of rye;
Four and twenty blackbirds
Baked in a pie.
When the pie was open’d,
The birds began to sing;
Was not 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;
By came a Jackdaw,
And snapt off her nose.
They sent for the king’s doctor,
Who sewed it on again;
The Jackdaw for this naughtiness
Deservedly was slain.