Crumbs for the Commoner

Sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye Four and twenty

blackbirds baked in a pie When the pie was opened, the birds began

to sing Wasn't that a dainty dish to set before a king?

But if you're not a king, then why even bother? The pie's just

a joke and the birds are all fodder You could be eating bread and

jam But the pie's a joke, it's all a scam

The king gets the feast, you get the crumbs So why sing

a song if you're not one of them? The king gets the