(American folk song)
Black sheep black sheep, where’s your lamb?
Way down in the valley.
Butterfly, butterfly, flitting round its eye,
And the poor little things cried, “Mammy.”
Mammy said when she went away, to take good care of the baby,
Wgeb she cine vaca she’d bring a piece of cake,
And give a little bit to the baby.
Extras for Plus Members
- Song with chords (PDF)
- MIDI file
- Listen to the song