Singer song of sixpence

September 20, 2007 at 5:09 am | Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments

Singer to Challenge Common Views on Climate Change

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 that not a dainty dish
to set before the 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,
When down came a blackbird
and pecked off her nose!

This is about business-as-usual: money, power, poverty, harm, and things not being what they seem 😉



RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI

  1. […] the rest of this great post here […]

  2. It’s an opinion piece, not reportage. So, the author isn’t paid to be accurate, just to have impact. Teaching people that ‘Opinion’ columns aren’t required to contain a single shred of fact would be a great contribution to ‘framing science’! The serious debate about survival could then gloss over such stuff as mere entertainment.
    Besides, when extinction is a possibility (however remote) we can’t waste time repeatedly discussing old and discredited ideas just because those who have married their careers to them are still on the lecture circuit. If sceptics can bring new facts to the table, fair enough – otherwise, they’ve had their chance to run the world, and we should remember that new ideas have had to beat the best defences of the status quo to get heard at all!

  3. I always hated this nursery rhyme when I was young =)

    The poor birds! Baked in a pie! That’s terrible! (not to mention the poor maid and her nose)

  4. I never liked this sinister rhyme, except …

    … when I was very small, I remember standing in my grandparents’ gooseberry and blackcurrant patch (!) watching my nanna cutting rhubarb from her back garden, under the clothes pegged on her washing line.
    She would sing the rhyme, pecking off my nose with her fingers (not literally), and then ended with:

    There was such a commotion
    That little Jenny Wren
    Flew down into that garden
    And popped it back again!

    Which restored my nose and my faith in humanity 😉
    My grandmother also had a tin of old farthings, thrup’ny bits and sixpences that we would tip on her floor and play with in front of the fireplace. The farthings have a wren on them and they were worth a quarter of a penny—the smallest, sweetest bird you could imagine on the smallest, sweetest coin you’d ever see …

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at
Entries and comments feeds.

%d bloggers like this: