Ham and Eggs | Best Kids Songs | PINKFONG Songs for Children



★ Lyrics

Ham And Eggs

Ham and eggs,
Ham and eggs,
I like mine fried good and brown,
I like mine fried upside down.
Ham and eggs,
Ham and eggs,
Flip'em Flop'em Flip'em Flop'em,
Ham and eggs.

Ham and eggs,
Ham and eggs,
I like mine fried good and brown,
I like mine fried upside down.
Ham and eggs,
Ham and eggs,
Flip'em Flop'em Flip'em Flop'em,
Ham and eggs.

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I Can't Decide If Being Rich Sounds Boring or Awesome

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Today on the way home from piano lessons, my seven-year-old said - out of the blue - "I wish we were rich." We live a comfortable life. I am able to stay home with my kids. We drive newer cars. My children have never wanted for anything (although we do try to teach them the value of money and try not to overindulge them). Other than the fact that my husband is currently out of a job (Oh! Have I not mentioned that? Well, let's just call that a story for another day. And there is a good deal of severance, so we're fine. Thanks.), we're doing just fine for ourselves. So, I'm wondering what it is that the seven-year-old mind thinks about being rich. So....I ask him why he wishes we were rich. G: So we could have a robot that does all of our cooking and cleaning and laundry. Me: Oh. Well, then what would I do? G: You could just relax and watch every TV show you want to watch. Or even just play on the computer. Me: Wouldn't I be bored? G: No. Mom, you just don...
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Home on the Range | Family Sing Along - Muffin Songs

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Lyrics: Home on the Range Oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam, Where the deer and the antelope play, Where seldom is heard a discouraging word And the skies are not cloudy all day. Chorus Home, home on the range, Where the deer and the antelope play; Where seldom is heard a discouraging word And the skies are not cloudy all day. Where the air is so pure, the zephyrs so free, The breezes so balmy and light, That I would not exchange my home on the range For all of the cities so bright. Chorus The red man was pressed from this part of the West He's likely no more to return, To the banks of Red River where seldom if ever Their flickering camp-fires burn. Chorus How often at night when the heavens are bright With the light from the glittering stars Have I stood here amazed and asked as I gazed If their glory exceeds that of ours. Chorus Oh, I love these wild prairies where I roam The curlew I love to hear scream, And I love the white rocks and the antelope flocks That graze on th...
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