'dancing'
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I am old and worn blue plastic, with rusty metal chainsI sit and wait in the soothing sounds of nature.Here, you come to find solace in me.I swing you up high in the sky, ignoring the ache in my joints,
When I hear the song Sweet Caroline,
Carousel lights reflect off the sleepy river,
The dance floor is warm with people,
My father's hand warms my back,
He sways with a bounce in his step,
