There Was An Old Man Of Messina,

There Was An Old Person Of Brussels, Who Lived Upon Brandy And Mussels; When He Rushed Through The Town, He Knocked Most People Down, Which Distressed All The People Of Brussels.

When Awful Darkness And Silence Reign Over The Great Gromboolian Plain, Through The Long, Long Wintry Nights.

The Owl And The Pussycat Went To Sea In A Beautiful Pea-green Boat: They Took Some Honey, And Plenty Of Money Wrapped Up In A Five-pound Note. . . They Dined On Mince And Slices Of Quince, Which They Ate With A Runcible Spoon; And Hand In Hand, On The Edge Of The Sand, They Danced By The Light Of The Moon, The Moon, The Moon, They Danced By The Light Of The Moon.

There Was An Old Person Of Bray, Who Sang Through The Whole Of The Day To His Ducks And His Pigs, Whom He Fed Upon Figs, That Valuable Person Of Bray.

They Dined On Mince, And Slices Of Quince, Which They Ate With A Runcible Spoon; And Hand In Hand, On The Edge Of The Sand, They Danced By The Light Of The Moon.