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 out his money

The queen was in the parlor

Eating bread with honey

The maid was in the garden

Hanging out the clothes

When down came a blackbird

And snipped off her nose