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Ellie’s in my belly.
She’s an elephant who can sing.

When she raises her trumpet,
Honks and stamps her feet,
The cake on the counter,
The milk in the fridge,
The cookies on the shelf,
The sweets beneath seats,
All disappear like stars
In the bright morning sky.
Down into my belly,
Where Ellie stomps and cries.

You can’t blame Ellie,
You can’t blame me.
Ellie is a singer and she needs to eat.

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