Would you like to know a secret?
Well, I'll tell you one I know:
The Easter's Bunny's coming,
My mama told me so.
He'll bring a basket filled with eggs
And leave it in my yard,
And I will find it Easter morn,
If I look very hard.
I shouldn't tell my secret,
But I think it should be shared.
You ought to know that Bunny's coming,
So you can be prepared!
See Saw Margery Daw,
Jacky shall have a new master;
Jacky shall earn but a penny a day,
Because he can't work any faster.
Simple Simon met a pieman,
Going to the fair;
Says Simple Simon to the pieman,
Let me taste your ware.
Says the pieman to Simple Simon,
Show me first your penny;
Says Simple Simon to the pieman,
Indeed I have not any.
Simple Simon went a-fishing,
For to catch a whale;
All the water he had got,
Was in his mother's pail.
Simple Simon went to look
If plums grew on a thistle;
He pricked his fingers very much,
Which made poor Simon whistle.
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
Oh wasn't that a dainty dish to set before the king!
The king was in his counting house counting out his money
The queen was in the parlour eating bread and honey
The maid was in the garden hanging out the clothes
When down came a blackbird and pecked off her nose!
The sky is full of bunny clouds
So soft and fat and white,
I wonder if they're hiding eggs
For stars to find at night.
Because it's Easter Eve, you know,
And there's no reason why
There shouldn't be an Easter hunt
In meadows in the sky.
Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep,
There outside are all the sheep;
Lambs are penned up, safe from harm.
Sleep my little one, cosy warm.
Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep.
Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep.
Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep,
See the sky is filled with sheep;
Like a flock of clouds drift by.
Led by a moonlit lullaby.
Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep.
Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep.
Solomon Grundy,
Born on a Monday,
Christened on Tuesday,
Married on Wednesday,
Took ill on Thursday,
Grew worse on Friday,
Died on Saturday,
Buried on Sunday.
That was the end,
Of Solomon Grundy.
Star light, star bright,
The first star I see tonight;
I wish I may, I wish I might,
Have the wish I wish tonight.
Sticks and stones will break my bones
But words will never harm me.
