In yellow gowns, the tart maid stands, brightening dishes from foreign lands. With zesty charm and tangy delight, she turns the sour into pure bite.

I wear a coat of black and white, Yet I cannot fly despite my height. I waddle on land but swim with grace, Through icy waters I win the race. In freezing lands, I make my home. Who am I, where cold winds roam?

Repeats what you say Repeats what you say Repeats what you say Repeats what you say Repeats what you say Repeats what you say

In nature's grand tapestry, a curtain of lace, Spilling over stones with a rapid embrace. A dance of droplets, a symphony's call, Down they tumble, a graceful freefall.

In tales of old, a beast with might, Breathes fire, takes flight in the night. Scales glistening bold, Treasures untold, A keeper of secrets in shimmering light.