# spell out "Eliza" We begin with sticky shins, make sticky then our shoes Shoes beget to clothes and hat until 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" El (chordiearchive.chordie.com)