The packets of biscuit
On the island table sitting cool
Admiring the garden chill its needs
When the sun light rises
It may start to move
On the hard surface
Tonight it can explore
Feel the freedom
And the whirring fan
Tomorrow it will go inside
Feel the needs
Those eager to have bites
The packets of biscuit
Came all the way from Hong Kong
Now it can wave goodbye
Escape the heat and race horses
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