Song for Myla Goldberg

Lyrics for Song for Myla Goldberg

Myla Goldberg sets a steady hand upon her brow Myla Goldberg hangs a crooked foot all upside-down It comes around, it comes around, it comes around, it comes around It comes around, it comes around, it comes around, it comes around Pretty hands do pretty things when pretty times arrive Seraphim and seaweed swim where stick-limbed Myla lies It comes around, it comes around, it comes around, it comes around It comes around, it comes around, it comes around, it comes around Still now you're waiting to grow Inside you're old Sew wings to pigeon toes Put paper to pen to spell out 'Eliza' We begin with sticky shins, make sticky then our shoes Shoes beget to clothes and hat till sticky's sticking too Funiculi, funicula, funiculi, funicula Funiculi, funicula, funiculi, funicula Listen in as shin-kicked Jim relates his story sad 'Bout a boy who kicked until his shins were all but rubber bands But now I know New York, I need New York, I know I need unique New York I know New York, I need New York, I know I need unique New York Still now you're waiting to grow Inside you're old Sew wings to pigeon toes Put paper to pen to spell out 'Eliza' Eliza Eliza (It comes around, it comes around, it comes around)