When the last families have gone home And the girl who takes tickets has left For her next job scooping ice cream At the Union Dairy, the painted horses Come alive, writhing on their poles, Not in pain but in relief at being free After having to remain so still all day,
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When the last families have gone home And the girl who takes tickets has left For her next job scooping ice cream At the Union Dairy, the painted horses Come alive, writhing on their poles, Not in pain but in relief at being free After having to remain so still all day,