My mother had trouble holding onto a tune -- she would easily wander from one to another, especially if they were similar. I remember hearing "Goldfinger, wider than a mile..." coming from the kitchen one day.
Our young years were full of poetry: Rudyard Kipling, Mildred Plew Meigs, Ogden Nash, and so on and on. But once in a while we'd get a song: "Peek-a-boo, I See You"; "The Animal Fair"; "Mairsie Doats"; "The Keeper Would A-Hunting Go"; "Looking Through a Window, A Second-Story Window".
When we got older we were treated to a few special verses from Mom's Navy days, such as this spoof sung to the first lines of "Pretty Baby": "If you're nervous in the service and you don't know what to do, have a baby, have a baby...."