Set sail on good Lumadica.

She dances through the waves,

and wades though heaven's starlight.

(It's the twinkle that she craves.)

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She fills mercuric canvas,

with shrieking liquid glass

and hums a tune of rapture

to the dreams that wander past.

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She's bedecked with sunlit timbers

and the grace with which hearts burn.

Each day we stand upon her,

and she listens as we learn.

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