Who put her in? Little Tommy Green.
Who pulled her out? Little Tommy Trout.
What a naughty boy was that,
To drown poor Pussy Cat.
Polly, put the kettle on,
Polly, put the kettle on,
Polly, put the kettle on,
And let's drink tea.
Sukey, take it off again,
Sukey, take it off again,
Sukey, take it off again,
They're all gone away.
Pussy-cat, Pussy-cat where have you been?
I've been to London to look at the Queen.
Pussy-cat, Pussy-cat, what did you there?
I frightened a little mouse under a chair.
Blow, wind blow--
And go, mill, go--
That the miller
May grind his corn;
That the baker may take it,
And into rolls make it,
And bring us some hot in the morn.
Mary had a pretty bird,
Feathers bright and yellow,
Slender legs upon my word
He was a pretty fellow.
The sweetest notes he always sung,
Which much delighted Mary;
And near the cage she'd often sit
To hear her own canary.
Tom, he was a piper's son.
He learned to play when he was young.
But all the tunes that he could play,
Was "Over the hills and far away."
Tom with his pipe did play with such skill,
That those who heard him could never keep still;
Whenever they heard him they began to dance,
Even pigs on their hind legs would after him prance.
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