The weathercock stands on the steeple,

And there the weathercock stands;

He flaps his wings and he claps his wings,

Because he has no hands;

He turns him round when the wind blows,

He turns again and again;

But Baby has hands and can clap them,

Flip them and flop them and flap them,

Swing them and wring them and slap them,

Far better than cock or hen.