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Got my pocketful of rye, I’m in my chair
Little Miss Muffet’s gone; I don’t know where
Hi Diddle Diddle, I don’t even care
I’m not just gonna mope around and mourn her
I just wanna sit in my corner
I’m Little Jack Horner
I’m a good little boy
(Run, Miss Muffet, run)

Packed her three bags full and started changing her tune
Took my dish and ran away with her spoon
Wagged her tail behind her and jumped over the moon
With cockle shells to daintily adorn her
But I’m just gonna sit here in the corner
I’m Little Jack Horner
I’m a really good boy
A really, really good boy
(Come on....Blow your horn)

Stuck in my thumb
Pulled out a big juicy plum
Didn’t see what was to come
I was a merry old soul
Broke my crown
Tumbling all the way down
Stopped running all through the town
Gave up my pipe and my bowl

Broke her pumpkin shell when the clock struck one
Licked my platter clean and took it on the run
Now the cupboard’s bare and this poor dog has none
But I’m not gonna be the one to scorn her
I’ll just be sitting pretty in my corner
I’m Little Jack Horner
I’m a good little boy
I’m a very good boy
(spoken: I am an exceptionally good little boy........
Laugh, little dog, laugh.....

One of my earlier lyrics, playing around with Nursery Rhyme images. I imagine a huge horn solo in the middle.

crumpled paper