Tim Gamache - Sixpence

Sing a song of sixpence softly, I will cry
I tried four and twenty baked goods, I still miss your kuchen pie
And when we neared the end your king was forced to learn to cook
He'd feed the birds some dinner so you'd see them from your nook
Though the king afforded doctors— best in all the land
You, the queen in quarantine, shook heads before their hands
Between the cups of honey tea you remained the household maid
Until, of course, the blackbird came and tied you where you lay
And ooh
God bless your crown
While honeysuckle grows the purple irises fall down
And ooh
I hear your voice
Sing a song of sixpence to your boys
Soft and sweet
Like songbirds, dad would feed
Sing a song of sixpence softly, I will cry
There was not a thing the king and all his doctors did not try
But when it hit your lungs, the blackbird flew off with your words
And now I only hear you when I listen to the birds

Written by:
Tim Gamache

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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