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 Wasn't that a dainty dish to set before the king? The king was in his counting-house, counting out his money The queen was in the parlor, eating bread and honey The maid was in the garden, hanging out the clothes When down came a blackbird and pecked off her nose When down came a blackbird and pecked off her nose