The Flamingo’s Dance


There lives a girl who loves to dance,
who dreams of Broadway’s open arms,
who yearns to see New York’s blazing lights,
And so she dances the flamingo’s dance.

When she dances, her feet tap tap,
they swish and click and lick and clap,
they search the ground for dreams far hidden,
She dances the flamingo’s dance.

Her skirt laps the air with its flowing cloth,
and flies swift and strong amongst the air so soft,
it strikes and drums and breathes orange flames,
She dances the flamingo’s dance.

She dreams of New York city’s lights,
of a sky that keeps forever bright,
of buildings grand and great in height,
She dances the flamingo’s dance.

She hopes one day that her fingers will brush
the lights that seem so beyond her touch,
will reach the heights to which only her skirt can fly,
And so she dances the flamingo’s dance.

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