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 opened,

The birds began to sing;

Was that not 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 pecked off her nose.

A pocket full of cheese,

Four and twenty monkeys

Swinging in the trees.

They picked all the bananas

And dropped them on my head.

I had to call the monkey king

Who sent them off to bed.

By

Kaye Umansky