Sing a song of sixpence

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 parlour, Eating bread and honey, The maid was in the garden, Hanging out the clothes, there came a little blackbird, And pecked off her nose, They sent for the king's doctor, who sewed it on again, He sewed it on so neatly, the seam was never seen, Sing a song of sixpence, A pocket full of rye, Four and twenty blackbirds, baked in a pie.