Sing A Song Of Sixpence

Sing a song of sixpence, A pocket full of rye, Four and twenty black-birds, Baked in a pie When the pie was open'd The birds began to sing Was'nt 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; There came a little blackbird, And nipp'd off her nose.