We
make the sound of humming.
Flapping
the wings like a music organ.
With
chirps, squeaks, whistles and buzzes;
We
sing a song to eat the insects.
Whirling
our flaps in the shape of eight;
We
fly backwards, no birds compete.
Hovering
like a helicopter,
A
twist to the right, a twist to the left,
No bird matches our fly-dance tricks.
No bird matches our fly-dance tricks.
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