Sing a song of sixpence,
A pocket fully 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?

Polly put the kettle on,
Polly put the kettle on,
Polly put the kettle on,
We'll all have tea.
Sukey take it off again,
Sukey take it off again,
Sukey take it off again,
They've all gone away.