Sing a song of sixpence,
With birds all flying high.
Four and twenty blackbirds,
Swooping in the sky.
–
As the wind grows stronger,
They circle in a ring.
People on the ground all say,
“Now, there’s a funny thing!”
Sing a song of sixpence,
With birds all flying high.
Four and twenty blackbirds,
Swooping in the sky.
–
As the wind grows stronger,
They circle in a ring.
People on the ground all say,
“Now, there’s a funny thing!”