Sing a Song of Sixpence



Sing  a song  of sixpence, 

A pocketful of rye; 

Four 4 and twenty 20 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 the counting-house, 

Counting  out his money;   

The queen  was in the parlor,

Eating bread  and honey. 

The maid  was in the garden, 

Hanging out the clothes; 

When down  came a blackbird, 

And pecked off her nose. 

*Sourced from Enchanted Learning

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