Lyrics The Matadors - Sing A Song Of Sixpence

Sing a song of sixpence,
A pocketful 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 put before the king?

The king was in the 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 bit her on the nose.

There was such a commotion,
That little Jenny wren;
Flew down into the garden,
And put it back again.