Fish swim closer,
To the lily girl,
Who dances on her flower,
They watch her twirl,
She touches the water,
With her toes,
Where the ripples go,
Nobody knows,
Music in air,
She fights off the fog,
That begs her to sit,
Like a bump on a log,
It slows her small fish,
And makes them all groggy,
Then after she dances,
Their minds are not foggy,
Her grace is smooth,
And...
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