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 arise Seraphim in 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 your pigeon toes Put paper to pen and spell out Eliza We begin with sticky shins, make sticky then our shoes Shoes beget to clothes and hat, till sticky's sticking too Finiculi, finicula, finiculi, finicula 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 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 your pigeon toes Put paper to pen and spell out Eliza Eliza Eliza It comes around, it comes around, it comes around