Every lady in this land
Has twenty nails upon each hand
Five and twenty on hands and feet.
All this is true without deceit.
* * * * *
Great A, little a,
Bouncing B!
The cat's in the cupboard,
And she can't see.
* * * * *
Hark, hark,
The dogs do bark,
The beggars are coming to town;
Some in rags,
Some in jags,
And some in velvet gowns.
* * * * *
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;
Was not that a dainty dish
To set before the king?
The king was in the 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 snipped off her nose.
Jenny was so mad,
She didn't know what to do;
She put her finger in her ear,
And cracked it right in two.