Oh the thumb-sucker’s thumb May look wrinkled and wet And withered, and white as the snow, But the taste of a thumb Is the sweetest taste yet (As only we thumb-sucker’s know).
Oh the thumb-sucker’s thumb May look wrinkled and wet And withered, and
Oh the thumb-sucker’s thumb May look wrinkled and wet And withered, and white as the snow, But the taste of a thumb Is the sweetest taste yet (As only we thumb-sucker’s know).
