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.
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, bough, cradle and all.