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The seagulls are doing their dance again – Wings clasped to their sides, they stare up the street.Up and down, up and down, go their knobbly pink knees;
All you see is outside me: my painted smile,the rosy-posy shell, the fluttery eyes.A butter-won’t-melt-in-my-mouth-type me
We goin' on a school trip today,De whole class goin' to Whitney Bay,Ah teckin' me ball an' bat with meTo play beach cricket, an' let me see,
In the line you hear a chatter.Up and down a clatter, clatter.Noisy schoolgirls scream and shout,pushing in and pushing out.
I opened a bookand a hand fell out.I turned a pageand heard a shout:'I'm lost in a wood;my mother's no good.'I couldn't bear to look
Hand on the bridgefeel the rhythm of the train.
Hand on the windowfeel the rhythm of the rain.
Hand on your throatfeel the rhythm of your talk.
Who will bring me the hush of a feather?“I,” screeched the Barn Owl. “Whatever the weather.”
Walking out the school door,
didn't come to stay,
didn't mean to talk, but
did it anyway.
My friend Jace, beside me,
walking to my beat,
Tippy-tappyTippy-tappyTap, tap, tap.
Nippy-nappyNippy-nappyNap, nap, nap.
Stippy-steppyStippy-steppyStep, step, step.
Come across the rainbow bridgeto Asgard, where the Norse gods live!