Here is the beehive
But where are the bees?
Hidden away where nobody sees.
Look and you'll see them
Come out of the hive,
One, Two, Three, Four, Five.

Puff the Magic Dragon lived by the sea,
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Hanah Lee.
Little Jackie Paper loved that rascal Puff;
And brought him strings and sealing wax and other fancy stuff.

Puff the Magic Dragon lived by the sea,
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Hanah Lee.
Puff the Magic Dragon lived by the sea,
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Hanah Lee.



Together they would travel on a boat with billowed sail;
Jackie kept a look-out perched on Puff's gigantic tail.
Noble kings and princes would bow when e're they came;
Pirate ships would lower their flags when Puff roared out his name.

Puff the Magic Dragon lived by the sea,
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Hanah Lee.
Puff the Magic Dragon lived by the sea,
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Hanah Lee.



A dragon lives forever, but not so little boys;
Painted wings and giant strings make way for other toys.
One grey night it happened; Jackie Paper came no more.
And Puff that mighty dragon ceased his fearless roar.

His head was bent in sorrow; green scales fell like rain.
Puff no longer went to play along the cherry lane.
Without his life-long friend, Puff could not be brave;
So Puff that mighty dragon sadly slipped into his cave.

Puff the Magic Dragon lived by the sea,
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Hanah Lee.
Puff the Magic Dragon lived by the sea,
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Hanah Lee.

I know a funny little man, as quiet as a mouse,
Who does the mischief that is done in everybody's house!

There's no one ever sees his face, and yet we all agree,
That every plate we break was cracked by Mister Nobody!
'Tis he who always tears our books,who leaves the door ajar;
He pulls the buttons from our shirts, and scatters pins afar.
That squeaking door will always squeak, for, prithee, don't you see,
We leave the oiling to be doneby Mister Nobody!
He puts damp wood upon the fire, that kettles cannot boil;
His are the feet that bring in mud, and all the carpets soil.
The papers always are mislaid, who had them last but he?
There's not one tosses them about but Mister Nobody!
The finger marks upon the door by none of us are made;
We never leave the blinds unclosed, to let the curtains fade.
The ink we never spill; the boots that lying around you see,
Are not our boots; they all belong to Mister Nobody!

Old Mother Hubbard went to the cupboard to fetch her poor dog a bone,
When she bent over, her doggy took over,
And gave her a bone of his own.

Sweet and low, sweet and low,
Wind of the western sea;
Low, low, breathe and blow,
Wind of the western sea!
Over the rolling waters go,
Come from the dying moon, and blow,
Blow him again to me,
While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.



Sleep and rest, sleep and rest,
Father will come to thee soon;
Rest, rest, on mother's breast,
Father will come to thee soon;
Father will come to his babe in the nest,
Silver sails all out of the west
Under the silver moon!
Sleep my little one, sleep my pretty one, sleep.