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Miss Suzy
Criss-Cross Applesauce…
The rhyme runs through my head.
Oh how things have changed.
My friend’s fingers aren’t
The spiders crawling up my back.
We don’t play and sing,
Miss Mary Mac, Mac, Mac.
But like that rhyme we do sit here,
All dressed in black, black, black,
Wishing we could go back, to
The days we truly laughed.
The days we sat in circles,
Playing crocodile moray
Croc, Croc, Croc and
Sixty-four, concentration,
No repeats or hesitations.
Eeny Meeny Miny Moe
Was the way to choose a game.
Now that we’re grown up,
That laughter goes away.
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