Frozen Ribbit Groove

Three hundred generations. Two

hundred

frogs. Ready… steady…

The first lot dived and they hit the floor,

One little leap,

then ribbit no more.

We paid them for the time they stood,

They learnt to last; we thought that was good.

Generation two-seven-seven,

Sent one lucky frog to heaven.

Fifty-seven rounds of cheers—

Then the truth appeared.

Hop, hop, hop! (Hop,

hop,

hop!) Two point eight and then they stop.

Hop, hop, hop! (Hop,

hop, hop!) Reach for the light,

give all you've got.

Then the music ends and we… FREEZE!

We counted flight, they learnt to fly,

Eighty per cent against the sky.

Two point five, back on the ground,

Another little dream falls down.

Nine whole metres, what a sight—

Seven seconds still as night.

All that promise, all that grace,

Just to stand in place.

Hop, hop, hop! (Hop,

hop, hop!) Take nine metres,

bank the lot. Hop,

hop, hop! (Hop, hop,

hop!) Is that everything you've got?

Then the music ends and we… FREEZE!

Eight point seven metres at three seconds.

Eight point six at ten.

It's not moving.

It's waiting.

We taught it how to stay alive.

We forgot to ask it to go anywhere.

Half a metre, two seconds more,

Keep on moving across that floor.

No more waiting, no disguise,

There's a world beyond the prize.

Three hundred chances in the night,

Little green hearts chasing light.

Hop,

hop,

hop! (Hop,

hop,

hop!) Keep it going,

don't you stop.

Hop, hop,

hop! (Hop, hop,

hop!) Past the place you used to drop.

When the music plays,

don't…

FREEZE!

Rib rib ribbit, don't stop.

(don't stop)

Rib rib ribbit,

don't stop.

(don't stop)

Checkpoint saved.

The frogs are still training.

Nobody move.