sing
a
song
of
six
pence
&
boys
that
always
lie
always
nimble
always
quick
to
make
the
young
girls
cry
with
promises
of
sugar
plumbs
dancing
in the
sky
of
four
&
twenty
blackbirds
baked
in
christmas
pies
it’s raining
it’s pouring
& my
heart
is
soaring
to be
that
dainty
dulcet
dish
set
before
the king
with
cockle
shells
&
silver
bells
but
still
no
wedding
ring
where
eencey
weencey
spiders
climb
to
higher
ground
birds
of a
feather
flock
together
&
heart
ache
has
no
sound

soul
less
licorice
tangy
sweet
blasphemy
every
time
u say
my
name
tooth
decay
agony
release
me
from
ure
memory
then
maybe
i can
get
some
peace
if ure
really
done
with
me
just
let me
be
eternally
left to
be
ure
midnite
bride
of
heresy
a salty
sin
in between
ure
marriage
bed
&
family
the
parody
of
gaiety
combustible
security
with
fluctuating
misery
u only
bring
calamity
wrapped
in fake
idolatry
enough
to
weaken
all ure
teeth
&
rot
them
with
depravity
&
bleeding
gums
to
soothe
ure
tongue
&
wash
away
ure
vanity