Song for Myla Goldberg

Myla Goldberg
Sets a steady hand upon her brow
Myla Goldberg
Hangs a crooked foor 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 arise
Seraphim in ******* swim
Where stick -limbed
Myla liesIt 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 youre waiting to grow
Inside youre old
Sew wings to your pigeon toes
Put paper to pen and spell out
ElizaWe begin with sticky shins
Make sticky then our shoes
Shoes beget to clothes
And hat til stickys sticking too
Finiculi, finicula, finiculi, finicula
Finiculi, finicula, finiculi, finicula
Listen in as shin-kicked
JimRelates 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
YorkI know
I need unique
New YorkI know
New York,
I need New
YorkI know
I need unique
New YorkStill now youre waiting to grow
Inside youre old
Sew wings to your pigeon toes
Put paper to pen and spell out
ElizaEliza,
ElizaIt comes around, it comes around
It comes around