Rock-a-bye baby, in the treetop,
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock,
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall,
And down will come baby,
Cradle and all.
Is anyone else bothered by this little song? Babies falling from trees? What kind of mother lets her baby rock in a tree in the first place? This song is just so messed up. Are all children's songs so screwed?
Ring around the rosy,
Pocket full of posy,
Ashes, ashes,
We all fall down.
Dude, this song is about the plague! A 'ring around the rosy' refers to the marks that infected people had on their bodies. 'Pocket full of posy' is from the belief that eating posies would make a person better. They burned the bodies, thus 'ashes, ashes', and can you guess the last one? Imagine a woman singing this in the town where her children have died. Not a children's song!
It's pouring,
The old man is snoring.
He went to bed,
And bumped his head,
And couldn't wake up in the morning.
An old man just died or at least got seriously hurt. Need I really say more? I suggest this little song instead:
Rain, rain, go away.
Come again some other day.
All God's children want to play.
Rain, rain, go away.
Solomon Grundy,
Born on Monday,
Christened on Tuesday,
Married on Wednesday,
Took ill on Thursday,
Grew worse on Friday,
Died on Saturday,
Buried on Sunday.
This is the end of Solomon Grundy.
*sigh.* Another song of death. I am not afraid of death because it is just a part of life, and it is not truly the end. All the same, I don't believe that children should sing about it.
One little, two little, three little Indians,
Four little, five little, six little Indians,
Seven little, eight little, nine little Indians,
Ten little Indian boys.
You may have heard this song, but do you know where it comes from?
- Ten little Injuns standin' in a line,
- One toddled home and then there were nine;
- Nine little Injuns swingin' on a gate,
- One tumbled off and then there were eight.
- One little, two little, three little, four little, five little Injun boys,
- Six little, seven little, eight little, nine little, ten little Injun boys.
- Eight little Injuns gayest under heav'n.
- One went to sleep and then there were seven;
- Seven little Injuns cuttin' up their tricks,
- One broke his neck and then there were six.
- Six little Injuns all alive,
- One kicked the bucket and then there were five;
- Five little Injuns on a cellar door,
- One tumbled in and then there were four.
- Four little Injuns up on a spree,
- One got fuddled and then there were three;
- Three little Injuns out on a canoe,
- One tumbled overboard and then there were two.
- Two little Injuns foolin' with a gun,
- One shot t'other and then there was one;
- One little Injun livin' all alone,
- He got married and then there were none.
Personally, I don't want my children singing these songs. They're not very nice when you actually think about them. I know there are more, but these are the ones that I could remember (of course, I had to look up some lyrics). Why don't we sing Jesus Loves Me or Teddy Bear Pincnic (so long as you don't sing the Angel version)? I like those songs.