There was an old woman
Sold puddings and pies;
She went to the mill,
And the dust flew in her eyes.
Now through the streets,
To all she meets,
She ever cries,
"Hot pies—Hot pies!"
There was an old woman
Sold puddings and pies;
She went to the mill,
And the dust flew in her eyes.
Now through the streets,
To all she meets,
She ever cries,
"Hot pies—Hot pies!"