Rock-a-bye Baby

Rock-a-bye, Baby, In the tree top:
When the wind blows, The cradle will rock;
When the Bough breaks, The cradle will fall;
Down will come baby, Cradle and all.

Rock-a-bye, baby, thy cradle is green;
Father's a nobleman, mother's a queen;
And Betty's a lady, and wears a gold ring;
And Johnny's a drummer, and drums for the king.