|
Sing a song of sixpence, pocket full of rye |
|
Hush-a bye my baby, no need to be crying. |
|
You can burn the midnight oil with me |
|
As long as you will |
|
Stare out at the moon |
|
Upon the windowsill, and dream... |
|
|
|
Sing a song of sixpence, pocket full of rye |
|
Hush-a bye my baby, no need to be crying. |
|
There's dew drops on the window sill, |
|
Gumdrops in your head |
|
Slipping into dream land, |
|
You're nodding your head, so dream... |
|
|
|
Dream of West Virginia, or of the British Isles |
|
'Cause when you are dreaming, |
|
You see for miles and miles. |
|
When you are much older, remember when we sat |
|
At midnight on the windowsill, |
|
And had this little chat |
|
And dream, come on and dream, |
|
Come on and dream, and dream, and dream... |
