Embalado por uma cobra
Hush-a-bye, Baby,
On the tree top,
When the wind blows
The cradle will rock;
When the bough breaks
The cradle will fall,
Down will come baby,
And 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.
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