A little cock-sparrow sat on a tree,
Looking as happy as happy could be,
Till a boy came by, with his bow and arrow,
Says he, I will shoot the little cock-sparrow.
His body will make me a nice stew,
And his giblets will make me a little pie, too.
Says the little cock-sparrow, I'll be shot if I stay,
So he clapped his wings and then flew away.
Cuckoo, cherry tree,
Catch a bird, and give it me.
Let the tree be high or low,
Let it hail, rain, or snow.
There was a little man, and he had a little gun,
And his bullets were made of lead, lead, lead;
He shot Johnny Sprig through the middle of his wig,
And knocked it right off his head, head, head.
Pat a cake, pat a cake, baker's man,
Bake me a cake as fast as you can;
Pat it and prick it and mark it with T,
And put in the oven for Tommy and me.
Taffy was a Welshman, Taffy was a thief;
Taffy came to my house and stole a piece of beef;
I went to Taffy's house, Taffy was not at home;
Taffy came to my house and stole a marrow bone.
In the merry month of May
When green leaves begin to spring,
Little lambs do skip like fairies,
Birds do couple, build, and sing.
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