My mother has killed me,
My father is eating me,
My brothers and sisters sit under the table,
Picking up my bones,
And they bury them
under the cold marble stones.
There was a man, a very untidy man,
Whose fingers could nowhere be found
to put in his tomb.
He had rolled his head far underneath the bed;
He had left legs and arms lying
all over the room.
Three blind mice! See how they run!
They all ran after the farmer's wife,
Who cut off their tails with a carving knife.
Did you ever see such a thing in your life
As three blind mice?