Rock-a-bye baby on the tree top.
When the wind blows the cradle will rock.
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall.
But mother will catch you Cradle and all
Baby is
drowsing, cosy and fair
Mother sits near in her rocking chair
Forward and back, the cradle she swings
Though baby sleeps, he hears what she sings
From the high
rooftops down to the sea
No one's as dear as baby to me
Wee little fingers, eyes wide and bright
Now sound asleep until morning light
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