Four and Twenty Black Birds

This morning there was a huge chorus outside and when I went out to check...I thought I was in the Alfred Hitchcock movie--"The Birds".  
 Sing a song of sixpence,

A pocket full of rye.

Four and twenty blackbirds,

Baked in a pie.

When the pie was opened,

The birds began to sing;

Wasn't that a dainty dish,

To set before the king?

The king was in his counting house,

Counting out his money;

The queen was in the parlour,

Eating bread and honey.

The maid was in the garden,

Hanging out the clothes;

When down came a blackbird

And pecked off her nose.

They sent for the king's doctor,

who sewed it on again;

He sewed it on so neatly,

the seam was never seen.