HOW IT GOES

‘See-saw Margery Dawes
Hickory dickory dock…’ he said when asked what it was.
‘No, no, no,’ he said. ‘That isn’t right.’
‘What isn’t?’
‘That isn’t,’ he said.
‘“That” is right,’ he said. ‘“Which” would be wrong,’ irritating me sat nearby listening, no, over-hearing…
‘What?’ shaking his head. ‘I meant the song,’ tired, no, weary, like this was common between them, ‘the song isn’t right.’
‘How’s it go then?’
‘See-saw Margery Dawes
Jenny shall have a new master
She shall have but a penny a day
For she can’t work any faster,’ he sang. ‘That’s how it goes.’