Old King Cole, merry as can be

Cooking up the books with the fiddlers three

Crooked man has a crooked smile

Counting out his money with crooked style

Hey ho merry-go-round

Who will dig his grave, who will carry the coffin,

Who will toll the bell for poor Cock-Robin?

 

Lords are leaping, the stakes are high

Hey diddle diddle's got a thumb in the pie

Jack be nimble but don't be rash

He'll steal your plums quick as a flash

Simple Simon says

 

We are not islands, we're part of the main

When the church bells toll we're one and the same

 

Ring-a-ring o' roses, we all fall down

(Tommy Tucker singing for his supper)

Ten little dickie birds fighting for the crown

(Jacky Horner lurking in the corner)

That's the way the money goes

Hanging on a line with the emperor's clothes

Hey ho merry-go-round

(Round and round to the ground)

 

The Queen of Hearts is waking up the dead

(Crazy Mary, Mary quite contrary)

She's hotter than a hot cross bun cos Jack has fled

(With the pretty maids all in a row)

Even Peter Pumpkin, he could not keep her

She sliced him up and buried him deep

And the blood red roses flow

 

We are not islands, we're part of the main

When the church bells toll we're one and the same

We are not islands