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,

And wasn't this a dainty dish

To set before the king?

The king was in his parlor

Counting out his money.

The queen was in the kitchen

Eating bread and honey.

The maid was in the garden

Hanging out the clothes.

There came a little blackbird,

And nipped off her nose.

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