There was an old woman, who told a lie,
As in the rhyme, she swallowed a fly,
Her old man, kept her mouth open-pried,
So she couldn’t yell “I lied”.
The old woman needed to do something-
To save her lie, she was ready to do anything.
Her old man knew the reason why she lied
So he carried her away, tied.
Through the trees, and across the hill,
Crossing the streams, and the run-down mill,
The old man ran with all his might.
The old woman cried out aloud in fright,
But her sound was lost on its way,
Frightened, though the day was gay.
So I tell you, my dear friends,
Do not lie, especially to your mates,
‘Cause who knows, the old man might appear
And carrying you, he might disappear,
Through the trees and across the hill,
Crossing the streams and the run-down mill.
He might run with all his might,
You might want to cry out in fright,
And your voice will be lost on its way,
Frightened, even though it’ll be gay.