Sara sings for her supper - "um, Um, UMM!"
And dances for her dinner, moshing like a mad thing
Hands flat on the highchair, poised and keenly waiting
To pounce on passing spoonfuls of potato, pear or plum
Sara, like the crocodile, has quite the friendly grin
Chuckles in her tummy, a dimple in her chin
Our little Sara can be quite the fetching thing
So don't put the dish down or she'll
dive
right
in
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