Ode of Old King Cole

Old King Cole, you're a merry old soul,
Your fiddlers twiddle-dee, and your snuff box
Is brought to you by children three;
They bring your bowls, they bring your box
For the little children are your servants
And all good children are your lot.
You rule over them in their little childish ways
Old King Cole is the King over Children
And only the good ones, so they're made gay.
Never have they sinned, and never have they been dark---
Old King Cole, you are their king, for that brief time so far
Away, in the back of my mind, I remember it a time
Of great gaiety, and Tall Tales and Legends and Happily Ended Fairy Stories.
Great Nursery Rhymes, and great feasts---
Old King Cole, you are the King I shall honor for my life.
For all children who have seen the reign of Old King Cole
Have a treasure of great happiness stored in their heart...
It is King Cole's Blessing, who was happy even without a wife.
Old King Cole, you were merry all your years,
And you reign over the good children, and fight back their fears.
You are a happy lot, given to the righteous children's souls...
You are that Merry Old, King Cole.