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Carrousel | ||
| The carrousel goes round and round. Bright horses seem to leave the ground. They're dancing to a sprightly air As drums go boom and trumpets blare. The horses hold their heads erect And boys and girls may well expect To travel to a fairy land Or to a beach with glist'ning sand. The magic horses know the way To lands of everlasting play. Although they pause we know not when, Ere long they will go on again. | ||
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