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