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Up, Up, Up
Just like a horsy you tell giddy up
Up higher in the sky
Wind comes swooshing by
Tilting and bending
Spiraling and shifting
Up even higher
More string it does acquire
In such high flight
Flies up high my kite
My kite would fly out of sight
If the string I do not hold tight
So much delight
I continue to fight
The wind to fly high my kite.
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