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Barb Ryman: Music/Listen

Nursery Rhymes

(© Barb Ryman)


Rock-a-bye baby in the treetop

Wind blows, the cradle will rock

Bough breaks, cradle will fall

Down come baby, cradle and all

There was an old woman lived in a shoe

Too many children to know what to do

Gave them broth without any bread

Whipped them all and sent them to bed


Fee! Fie! Foe! Fum!

I smell the blood of a common man

Be he alive or be he dead

I’ll grind his bones to make my bread

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall

Humpty Dumpty had a fall

All the king’s horses and his men

Couldn’t put Humpty together again


And so it is and so it goes

We recite the pretty prose

Sending children off to bed

With images of distress and dread

Falling babies, falling eggs

Hungry children who are beaten

Not enough to fill their heads

How ‘bout giants who can eat them


You might say ban Mother Goose

Better plan, let’s ban the News

Presented by the “friendly” group

Of corporate giants who like to feed you

Plates of fear and hopeless hope

A government they bought and sold

They dress it up,  they’ve got the gravy

To fatten you and make you lazy


And so it is and so it goes

We turn on the TV pros

Sending ourselves off to bed

With images of distress and dread

Falling markets, rising debt

Record profits to corporate heads

Not enough to wake us up

How ‘bout giants who will eat us


So here’s a toast to Mother Goose

She was trying to tell the truth

For many of those nursery rhymes

Were tales of ruling power crimes

That folks could tell and avoid jail

By hiding them as fairytales

So here is one more little rhyme

About the monsters of our time


Fee! Fie! Foe! Fum!

I smell the fat of a corporate one

Fell off the top of a giant bean stock

Now in pieces, still as a rock

All the king’s horses, all the king’s men

Couldn’t put fatso together again

Same thing happened to the rest of his kind

That’s the end of this Nursery Rhyme!