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