| On the first and final day.
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| The lovely Sheba hides away.
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| Tense and nervously she lies.
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| Snarling Lady is ready to spring.
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| And hidden in the leaves the natives wait.
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| They’re ready at a sign to seal her fate.
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| The wit’s game once again begins.
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| The last one running, is she that wins.
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| And Sheba’s eyes fixed to the sky.
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| Crouching to the ground, biding the time.
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| The flowing river hides her scent,
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| But tonight’s view won’t be so fine.
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| The first and final day.
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| Ends in sunset’s flaming haze.
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| Paints a stillness stillness all around.
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| The Lady must move quickly now.
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| Her lover leaps up through the trees.
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| And looking down aims carefully.
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| The painted dart that will end her run.
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| Flies through the air, the race is one.
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| And Sheba’s eyes fixed to the skies.
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| Crouching to the ground, biding time.
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| The flowing river hides her scent.
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| But tonight’s view won’t be so fine.
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| But tonight’s view won’t be so fine. |