Sing a song of sixpence
A pocket full of rye
Four and twenty black birds
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 parlour
Eating bread and honey
The maid was in
The garden
Hanging out the clothes
When down came
A black bird
And nicked off her nose.