It's very naughty of the bees
My little boy to scare and tease,
And eat his bread and honey up;
They can breakfast out of a buttercup.
See the jolly, jolly baker,
He who makes the cakes so nice;
How he kneads them, kneads them, kneads them,
Out of sugar, flour, and spice.
To the oven then he takes them,
In the great hot oven bakes them,
Thinking all the time, it may be,
Of my cunning little baby,
Who will eat the sugar-cakes
That the jolly baker makes.
Awake, awake, my baby,
The morning sun is up
And waiting for my baby
To find a buttercup.
Buttercups and daisies
Are growing all around,
And here are baby's little shoes
To caper o'er the ground.
Soon he'll bring me pretty flowers
Gathered in the morning hours.