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Sing a song of sixpence, pocket full of rye |
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Hush-a bye my baby, no need to be crying. |
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You can burn the midnight oil with me |
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As long as you will |
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Stare out at the moon |
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Upon the windowsill, and dream... |
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|
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Sing a song of sixpence, pocket full of rye |
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Hush-a bye my baby, no need to be crying. |
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There's dew drops on the window sill, |
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Gumdrops in your head |
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Slipping into dream land, |
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You're nodding your head, so dream... |
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Dream of West Virginia, or of the British Isles |
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'Cause when you are dreaming, |
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You see for miles and miles. |
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When you are much older, remember when we sat |
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At midnight on the windowsill, |
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And had this little chat |
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And dream, come on and dream, |
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Come on and dream, and dream, and dream... |