"Simple Simon met a pieman,
Going to the fair;
Says Simple Simon to the pieman,
"Let me taste your ware."
Says the pieman to Simple Simon,
"Show me first your penny;"
Says Simple Simon to the pieman,
"Indeed I have not any."
Tom, Tom the piper's son,
Stole a pig and away he run;
The pig was eat, and Tom was beat,
And Tom went howling down the street.
(Though a gifted thief, making off with a live pig was beyond Tom’s capabilities.
The pig he stole was a sweetmeat pie from a street hawker – an 18 thC Simple Simon like the one pictured.)
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;
Was not that a dainty dish,
To set before a 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;
There came a little blackbird,
And snapped off her nose.
(This will never happen with one of Simple Simon's pies. We guarantee it.)
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