my recollection of the words are:

My Aunt's name is Emlina Waterbottle
She comes down from Stoke on Trent
She goes out a riding on a bicycle
and comes back with her handle bars bent.

That's it, but when I 'sing' to my Grand Children I make a sound with my lips rather like a badly played trumpet to finish it off.

When they were young, they loved this bit of nonsense.