Yankee Doodle came to town,
    Riding on a pony;
He stuck a feather in his cap
    And called it macaroni.

Yankee Doodle keep it up,
    Yankee doodle dandy;
Mind the music and the step,
    And with the girls be handy.

Old King Cole
Was a merry old soul,
    And a merry old soul was he;
He called for his pipe,
And he called for his bowl,
    And he called for his fiddlers three.

Every fiddler he had a fiddle,
And a very fine fiddle had he;
    Oh, there's none so rare
    As can compare
With King Cole and his fiddlers three.

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 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 maid went to the doctor,
    And what do you suppose?
When he had examined her,
    He gave her a wooden nose;
But when the maid got home again,
    She couldn't see her toes,
And that is how the custom of
    Our hiding toes arose.


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