Routines
Lola Andrew-Blondin
My chest gets tight
For my air I have to fight
And then I’m under
Under the water
Where I belong
A place where I feel strong
Where I’m capable
But it’s inescapable
That I have to come back up
Up for air, and I erupt
My lungs are filled
But I must look thrilled
As if I'm not tired
So that I can be admired
And then I go back down
But still I mustn’t frown
I extend my legs up in the air
While the music blares
I must move in time
And still be in my prime
In the moment I must commit
And I will not quit
This is no sport for the weak
And still I’m smiling from cheek to cheek