The weathercock stands on the steeple,
And there the weathercock stands;
He flaps his wings and he claps his wings,
Because he has no hands;
He turns him round when the wind blows,
He turns again and again;
But Baby has hands and can clap them,
Flip them and flop them and flap them,
Swing them and wring them and slap them,
Far better than cock or hen.