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Tom, Tom, the piper's son,
Dibbity, dibbity, dibbity, doe,
And I'll go.
A bit of a fritter.
Little Johnny Pringle had a little Pig, It was very little, so was not very big, As it was playing beneath the shed, In half a minute poor Piggy was dead. So Johnny Pringle he sat down and cried, And Betty Pringle she laid down and died. There is the history of one', two, and three, Johnny Pringle, Betty Pringle, and Piggy Wiggie.
Taffy was a Welshman, Taffy was a thief;
I went to Taffy's house, Taffy was not in;
To market, to market, to buy a penny bun,
Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled pepper;
Blow, wind, blow! and go, mill, go!
That the miller may grind his corn;
That the baker may take it,
And into rolls make it,
And send us some hot in the morn.