A Little Man

There was a little man, and he had a little gun,

And his bullets were made of lead, lead, lead;

He went to the brook, and saw a little duck,

And shot it right through the head, head, head.

He carried it home to his old wife Joan

And bade her a fire to make, make, make,

To roast the little duck he had shot in the brook,

And he'd go and fetch the drake, drake, drake.

The drake was a swimming with his curly tail;

The little man made his mark, mark, mark,

He let off his gun, but he fired to soon

And the drake flew away with quack, quack, quack!

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