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.
Ambling madly all over the town. The call to arms you likened to a whisper. I likened to a radio. . You were a brick bat, a Bowery tough, so rough. They called you from a cartoon.
We set to sail on a packet full of spice, rum and tea-leaves.. We've emptied out all the bars and the bowery hotels.. Tell your daughters do not walk the streets alone tonight.