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
Pretty hands do pretty things when pretty times arise
Seraphim and seaweed swim where stick-limbed Myla lies
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 your 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 ’til sticky’s sticking too
Finiculi finicula finiculi finicula
Listen in as shin-kicked Jim relates his story sad
About a boy who kicked until his shins were all but rubberbands
But now
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 your pigeon toes
Put paper to pen
to spell out “Eliza”
Eliza
Eliza