These are the children, quite a score—
Perhaps one less, perhaps one more—
Who worried the dame without a name,
Who Lived in the Shoe.
This is the broth so weak and thin,
With never a bit of bread therein,
Made for the children, quite a score—
Perhaps one less, perhaps one more—
Who worried the dame without a name,
Who Lived in the Shoe.
This is the stick so long and thick,
That followed the broth so weak and thin,
With never a bit of bread therein,
Made for the children, quite a score—
Perhaps one less, perhaps one more—
Who worried the dame without a name,
Who Lived in the Shoe.