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Little Tommy Tucker,
Sing for your supper:
White bread and butter.
Without any wife?
I would, if I could; if I couldn't, how could I?
Oh that I were where I would be !
Then should I be where I am not;
And where I would be I can not.
If I should give my fiddle,
They'll think that I'm gone mad, For many a joyful day
My fiddle and I have had.
There was a Piper had a Cow,
And he had naught to give her, He pull’d out his pipes and play'd her a tune,
And bade the cow consider.
The cow considered very well,
And gave the piper a penny,
“ Corn rigs are bonny."
Away, pretty robin, fly home to your nest,
And feed you with worms and with bread:
breast is all cover'd with red.
Handy-spandy, Jacky dandy,
He bought some at a grocer's shop,