Sonologues

"Pity the Child"

Chess

Music by Benny Andersson and Bjorn Ulvaeus

Lyrics by Tim Rice

When I was nine I learned survival, taught myself not to care. I was my single good companion taking my comfort there. Up in my room I planned my conquests on my own -- never asked for a helping hand. No one would understand. I never asked the pair who fought below, just in case they said "No."

Pity the child who has ambition, knows what he wants to do, knows that he'll never fit the system others expect him to. Pity the child who knew his parents saw their faults, saw their love die before his eyes. Pity the child that wise. He never asked "Did I cause your distress?" Just in case they said "Yes."

When I was twelve my father moved out, left with a whimper -- not with a shout. I didn't miss him -- he made it perfectly clear: I was a fool and probably queer. Fool that I was I thought this would bring those he had left closer together. She made her move the moment he crawled away. I was the last the woman told. She never let her bed get cold. Someone moved in -- I shut my door. Someone to treat her just the same way as before.

I took the road of least resistance. I had my game to play. I had the skill, and more -- the hunger. Easy to get away. Pity the child with no such weapons
No defense, no escape from the ties that bind, always a step behind. I never called to tell her all I'd done. I was only her son!

Pity the child but not forever, not if he stays that way. He can get all he ever wanted if he's prepared to pay. Pity instead the careless mother. What she missed, what she lost when she let me go. And I wonder does she know? I never call. A crazy thing to do, just in case she said, "Who?"

Anyone Can Whistle

"There Won't Be Trumpets"

Stephen Sondheim

FAY:Those smug little men with their smug little schemes. They forgot one thing: the play isn't over by a long shot yet! There are heroes in the world, princes and heroes in the world, And one of them will save us. Wait and see! Wait and see!

There won't be trumpets or bolts of fire to say he's coming. No Roman candles, no angels' choir, no sound of distant drumming. He may not be the cavalier, tall and graceful, fair and strong. Doesn't matter, just as long as he comes along!
But not with trumpets or lightning flashing or shining armor. He maybe daring, he may be dashing, or maybe he's a farmer. We can wait, what's another day?
He has lots of hills to climb and a hero doesn't come till the nick of time! Don't look for trumpets or whistles tooting to guarantee him! There won't be trumpets, but sure as shooting you'll know him when you see him!

Don't know when, don't know where, and I can't even say that I care! All I know is, the minute you turn and he's suddenly there, There won't be trumpets!
There are no trumpets! Who needs trumpets?

Mack and Mable

“I Won’t Send Roses”

Jerry Herman

Max:

I won't send roses, or hold the door. I won't remember which dress you wore. My heart is too much in control the lack of romance in my soul will turn you grey, kid so stay away, kid. Forget my shoulder when you're in need. Forgetting birthdays is guaranteed.
And should I love you, you would be the last to know. I won't send roses and roses suit you so.

My pace is frantic. My temper's cross with words romantic I'm at a loss. I'd be the first one to agree that I'm preoccupied with me, and it's inbred, kid, so keep your head, kid. In me you'll find things like guts and nerve, but not the kind of things that you deserve. And so while there's a fighting chance, just turn and go. I won't send roses and roses suit you so.

110 in the Shade

“Milisande”

STARBUCK:

Well…

Now once upon a time, so they tell us, somewhere beneath the mountains of Mexico, there dwelt a royal fella, King Hamlet, who had a turtledove and he loved her so. Her name was Melisande and I tell you, that lady was as pretty as she could be, but Melisande was bothered, so Hamlet starts to plead,“Tell me what you need,” and Melisande whispers: “I got me a dream! I’ve always wanted this golden fleece and I think I will die unless it is mine!”

“Great Godamighty!” Says Hamlet, “I sympathize! Great Godamighty! You take and you dry your eyes! I’m gonna get you whatever you ask of me! I’m gonna get you the goldenest fleece in the world!” So he gets a bunch of fellas together, and out into the ocean away they go, and after they have traveled for ages, they come upon the place where the ogres grow. And sure enough they spy ‘em a giant, a-sittin’ there a-guardin’ that golden fleece, and Hamlet says, “I warn you—You best give that to me, do it peaceably, my Melisande needs it! She’s got her a dream.She’s always wanted a golden fleece, and I’m ready to die for that piece of twine!”

“Great Godamighty!” The giant he raves and swears. “Great Godamighty!” You better go say your prayers. I’m gonna slice you and put you into the stew! I’m gonna cook you!” And both of them started to fight!

And when he came back, all bleedin’ and torn, he went and laid that fleece of gold right down at her pretty feet, and she took that fur piece and wrapped it around her naked shoulders, and she said: “I had me a dream…I always wanted a golden fleece, and now that it is mine,

I’ll never be cold no more! Never be cold no more…” Melisande…! Melisande…! What a woman! What a name!

The Secret Garden

"How Could I Know?"

Music by Lucy Simon, Lyrics by Marsha Norman

LILY:

How could I know I would have to leave you? How could I know I would hurt you so? You were the one I was born to love! Oh, how could I ever know? How could I ever know?

How can I say to go on without me? How, when I know you still need me so? How can I say not to dream about me? How could I ever know? How could I ever know?

Forgive me. Can you forgive me and hold me in your heart,

and find some new way to love me now that we're apart?

How could I know I would never hold you? Never again in this world, but oh, Sure as you breathe, I am there inside you, How could I ever know? How could I ever know? How could I ever know? All you need...is there in the garden! All I would ask...is care for the child of our love! Come, go with me, safe I will keep you.

where you would lead me, there I would, there I would, there we would there we will go. Oh! How could I know?Tell me how could I know? Never to know you would ever leave me!How could we know?How could I ever know?

Parade

"It’s Hard to Speak My Heart"

Jason Robert Brown

LEO:

It's hard to speak my heart. I'm not a man who bares his soul. I let the moment pass me by - I stay where I am in control. I hide behind my work, Safe and sure of what to say: I know I must seem hard, I know I must seem: cold. I never touched that girl - You think I'd hurt a child, yes? I'd hardly seen her face before - I swear - I swore we'd barely met. These people try to scare you with things I've never said.

I know it makes no sense. I swear I don't know why: You see me as I am - You can't believe I'd lie - You can't believe I'd do these deeds -

A little man who's scared and blind, Too lost to find the words he needs. I never touched that child - God - I never raised my hand!

I stand before you now: incredibly afraid.

I pray you understand.

Children of Eden

"Lost in the Wilderness"

Stephen Schwartz

I never made this world, I didn't even lose it and I know no one said it was fair, but they had a garden once. They had the chance to choose it. They gave it away including my share.

And now we're lost in wilderness. Lost,crying in the wilderness. And if anyone's watching it seems they couldn't care less. We're lost wilderness

You follow all the rules. You swallow the stories and every night you wish on a star. Dreaming your day will come, trusting in allegories And every morning boy look where you are: Lost in the Wilderness, Lost, lonely, dying in the wilderness with no chance of living boy, until you confess. You're lost in the wilderness

Did you ever watch the eagle fly to the sun and wondered how he got to be so free? If you ever have you know your journey's begun. Hey, what you got to lose boy, when already we are lost in the wilderness

And where we are headed boy, I couldn't guess but : Off we go without a warning, running as we hit the ground, where our future lies before us. Where our hearts are outward bound, till one bright and distant morning, we may stop and look around and there in the wilderness

Finally we'll be found!

Jacques Brel is Alive and Well and Living in Paris

"Jackie"

Jacques Brell

And if one day I should become a singer with a Spanish bum who sings for women of great virtue, I'd sing to them with a guitar I borrowed from coffee bar. Well, what you don't know doesn't hurt you my name would be Antonio and all my bridges I would burn and if I gave them some they'd know I expect something in return. I'd have to get drunk every night to talk about virility with some old grandmother who might be decked out like a Christmas tree and tho' pink elephants I'd see I'd sing the song they sang to me, about the time they called me Jackie.

If I could be for only an hour, if I could be for an hour every day…if I could be for just one little hour: Cute, cute, cute in a stupid-ass way

And if I joined the social world became procurer of young girls then I would have my own bordellos my record would be number one and I'd sell records by the ton all sung by many other fellows.

My name would then be handsome Jack and I'd sell boats of opium, whiskey that came from Twickenham, authentic queers and phony virgins. I'd have a bank on every finger a finger in every country and every country ruled by me. I still know where I'd want to be: locked up inside my opium den surrounded by some Chinamen, I'd sing the song that I sang then about the time they called me Jackie. If I could be for only an hour. If I could be for an hour every day. If I could be for just one little hour - Cute, cute, cute in a stupid-ass way.

Now tell me wouldn't it be nice That if one day in paradise I sang for all the ladies up there . And they would sing along with me We'd be so happy there to be 'Cause down below is really nowhere. My name would then be Jupiter And I would know where I was going And then I would become all knowing And my beard so long and flowing.
If I became deaf dumb and blind Because I pitied all mankind And broke my heart to make things right I know that every single night when my angelic work was through The Angels and the Devil too Would sing my childhood song to me About the time they called me Jackie . If I could be for only an hour If I could be for an hour every day If I could be for just one stinkin' hour Cute, cute, cute in a stupid-ass way

Nine

"Guido’s Song"

Maury Yeston

GUIDO:

I would like to be here. I would like to be there. I would like to everywhere at once. I know that's a contradiction in terms, and it's a problem, especially when my body's clearing forty as my mind is nearing ten.

I can hardly stay up, and I can't get to sleep,and I don't want to wake tomorrow morning at the bottom of some heap. But why take it so seriously? After all, there's nothing at stake here-only me.

I want to be young, but I have to be old. I would like to be wise before my time and yet be foolish and brash and bold. I would like the universe to get down on it's knees and say, "Guido, whatever you please, it's okay. Even if it's impossible, we'll arrange it." That's all that I want.

I am lusting for more. Should I settle for less? I ask you, what's a good thing for, if not for taking it to excess? One limitation I dearly regret, there's only one of me I've ever met.

I would like to have another me to travel along with myself. I would even like to be able to sing a duet with myself. I would like to be here (Sing along with myself in a song) to be there (Walking down a lane now, everywhere) everywhere (Everywhere. That's a contradiction in terms. I want to)

Here (With a counter-) Here (Melody in the) Here (Top of the morning to you, Guido)

Guido (Guido)

Guido (Me)

Me (Me).

I want to be Proust or the Marquis De Sade, I would like to be Christ, Mohammed, Buddha but not have to believe in God, and you know I mean it with all of my heart. It's the end if something important doesn't start.

I want to be young, but I have to be old. What I want is a tale of sound and fury that some idiot went and told. I would like the universe to get down on it's knees and say, "Guido, whatever you please, it's okay. even if it's ridiculous, we'll arrangeit." So arrange it!

The Man of LaMancha

"It’s All the Same"

Music by Mitch Leigh, Lyrics Joe Darion

ALDONZA

One pair of arms is like another, I don't know why or who's to blame. I'll go with you or with your brother, it's all the same, it's all the same. This I have learned: That when the light's out, no man will bum with special flame, you'll prove to me before the night's out, you're all the same, you're all the same.

So do not talk to me of love, I'm not a fool with starry eyes. Just put your money in my hand, and you will get what money buys! One pair of arms is like another,

I don't know why or who's to blame, I'll go with you or with your brother. It's all the same, it's all the same. This I have learned: That when the light's out, no man will burn with special flame, you'll prove to me before the night's out,

You're all the same, you're all the same.

Oh, I have seen too many beds, but I have known too little rest, and I have loved too many men with hatred burning in my breast. I do not like you or your brother,

I do not like the life I live, But I am me, I am Aldonza, and what I give, I choose to give. One pair of arms is like another It's all the same, it's all the same!

Wonderful Town

"A Quiet Girl"

Music by Leonard Bernstien, Lyrics by Betty Comden and Adolph Green

BAKER:

All right! Goodbye! You've taught me my lesson! Get mixed up with a genius from Ohio! It happens over and over, I pick the sharp intellectual kind. Why couldn't this time be different? Why couldn't she - only beAnother kind - A different kind of girl

I love a quiet girl. I love a gentle girl, warm as sunlight…Soft, soft as snow

Her smile, a tender smile, her voice, a velvet voice. Sweet as music, Soft, soft as snow

When she is near me the world's in repose. We need no words. She sees - she knows. But where is my quiet girl? Where is my gentle girl? Where is the special girl? Who is soft, soft as snow. Somewhere. Somewhere. My quiet girl

Once On this Island

"Waiting for Life to Begin"

Music by Stephen Flaherty, Lyrics by Lynn Ahrens

TI MOUNE

A stranger in white, in a car, going somewhere, going far...

How it must feel to go racing wherever you please, flying as free as a bird with his tail in the breeze. Even the fish in the sea must be longing to fly, catching a glimpse of a stranger in white racing by

Oh, Gods ! Oh, Gods! Are you there? What can I do to get you to look down and give in? Oh, Gods! Oh, Gods! Hear my prayer! I'm here in the field with my feet on the ground and my fate in the air waiting for life to begin. Mama's contented and Tonton accepts what he gets happy for tea in their cups and no holes in their nets. Happy to have what they have and to stay where they are they never even look up at the sound of a car!

A stranger racing down the beach. Racing to places

I was meant to reach. My stranger, one day you'll arrive. The car will stop and in I'll hop and off we'll drive...We'll drive!

Oh, gods! Oh, gods! Please, be there.Don't you remember your little Ti Moune from the tree? Look down! Hear my prayer. Don't single me out and then forget me... Oh gods, oh gods, Let me fly. Send me to places no one before me has been. You spared my life, show me why. You get me to rise like a fish to the bait

and tell me to wait. Well, I'm waiting... Waitng for life to begin.

Guys and Dolls

"More I Cannot Wish You"

Frank Loesser

Velvet I can wish you for the collar of your coat and fortune smiling all along your way, but more I cannot wish you than to wish you find your love, your own true love this day

Mansions I can wish you, seven footmen all in red, and calling cards upon a silver tray. But more I cannot wish you than to wish you find your love, your own true love this day

Standing there, gazing at you, full of the bloom of youth

Standing there,gazing at you, with a sheeps' eye and a lickerish tooth.

Music I can wish you, merry music while you're young and wisdom when your hair has turned to gray. But more I cannot wish you than to wish you find your love. Your own true love this day ,with a sheeps' eye and a lickerish tooth

and a strong arms o carry you away.

Evita

"Buenos Aires"

Music by Andrew Lloyd Webber, Lyrics by Tim Rice

Eva:

What's new Buenos Aires? I'm new, I wanna say I'm just a little stuck on you. You'll be on me too. I get out here, Buenos Aires. Stand back, you oughta know whatcha gonna get in me: just a little touch of star quality. Fill me up with your heat, with your noise with your dirt, overdo me. Let me dance to your beat, make it loud, let it hurt, run it through me. Don't hold back, you are certain to impress Tell the driver this is where I'm staying

Hello, Buenos Aires. Get this, just look at me dressed up, somewhere to go, we'll put on a show. Take me in at your flood, give me speed, give me lights, set me humming. Shoot me up with your blood, wine me up with your nights, watch me coming. All I want is a whole lot of excess. Tell the singer this is where I'm playing

Stand back, Buenos Aires! Because you oughta know whatcha gonna get in me just a little touch of star quality

And if ever I go too far, it's because of the things you are beautiful town, I love you, and if I need a moment's rest give your lover the very best real eiderdown and silence.

You're a tramp, you're a treat. You will shine to the death, you are shoddy but you're flesh, you are meat, you shall have every breath in my body put me down for a lifetime of success give me credit, I'll find ways of paying

The Light in the Piazza

"Dividing Day"

Adam Guttel

Dashing as the day we met, only there is something I don't recognize. Though I cannot name it yet, I know it. Beautiful is what you are, only somehow wearing a frightening disguise. I can see the winter in your eyes, love, telling me:

“Thank you, We're done here, Not much to say. We are together but I have had Dividing Day.” So when, when was this day? Was it on the church step?

Suddenly you're out of love. Does it go creeping slowly? When was your dividing Day?

I can see the winter in your eyes, love, telling me: “Margaret, we didn't, You curtsied, I bowed. We are together, but no more love, no more love allowed.”

When was dividing day? Was it on the church step? Did it happen right away?

Were you lying next to me, hiding what you couldn't say? How could I have guessed? Was my cheek upon your chest, an ocean away…

When was, when was, when was Dividing Day?

Electricity

Billy Elliot

Elton John

I can't really explain it, I haven't got the words. It's a feeling that you can't control. I suppose it's like forgetting, losing who you are and at the same time something makes you whole. It's like that there's a music playing in your ear and I'm listening, and I'm listening and then I disappear

And then I feel a change like a fire deep inside something bursting me wide open impossible to hide and suddenly I'm flying, flying like a bird like electricity. Electricity sparks inside of me and I'm free I'm free

It's a bit like being angry. It's a bit like being scared confused and all mixed up and mad as hell. It's like when you've been crying and you're empty and you're full. I don't know what it is, it's hard to tell. It's like that there's a music playing in your ear

but the music is impossible, impossible to hear. But then I feel it move me, like a burning deep inside. Something bursting me wide open impossible to hide and suddenly I'm flying, flying like a bird. Like electricity, electricity sparks inside of me and I'm free I'm free. Electricity, sparks inside of me and I'm free, I'm free, I'm free. Free. I'm free

Perfectly Marvelous

Cabaret

music by John Kander, lyrics by Fred Ebb

I think people are perfectly marvellous, I really do, Cliff. Don't you? I don't think people should have to explain anything. For example, if I should paint my fingernails green and it just so happens I do paint them green, well, if anyone should ask me why, I say: " I think it's pretty!" ("I think it's pretty," I reply.) So, if anyone should ask about you and me, you have two alternatives: you can either say, "Oh, yes, it's true. We're living in delicious sin." Or you can simple tell the truth, and say:

I met this perfectly marvelous girl in this perfectly wonderful place, as I lifted a glass to the start of a marvelous year.

Before I knew she called on the phone, inviting. Next moment I was no longer alone, but sat reciting some perfectly beautiful verse,in my charming American style. How I dazzled her senses was truly no less than a crime.

Now I've this perfectly marvelous girl in my perfectly beautiful room and we're living together and having a marvelous time.

Much More

The Fantasticks

music by Harvey Schmidt, lyrics by Tom Jones

I'm sixteen years old and everyday something happens to me Oh... Oh... Oooooh! I hug myself till my arms turn blue, and then I close my eyes and I cry and cry till the tears come down and I can taste them. I love to taste my tears. I am special. I am special. Please, God, please, don't let me be normal! I'd like to swim in a clear blue stream Where the water is icy cold. Then go to town In a golden gown, And have my fortune told. Just once, Just once, Just once before I'm old.

I'd like to be not evil, But a little worldly wise. To be the kind of girl designed To be kissed upon the eyes.

I'd like to dance till two o'clock, Or sometimes dance till dawn, Or if the band could stand it, Just go on and on and on Just once, Just once, Before the chance is gone!

I'd like to waste a week or two And never do a chore. To wear my hair unfastened So it billows to the floor.

To do the things I've dreamed about But never done before! Perhaps I'm bad, or wild, or mad, With lots of grief in store, But I want much more than keeping house! Much more! Much more!

Far From the Home I Love

Fiddler on the Roof

music by Jerry Bock, lyrics by Sheldon Harnick

How can I hope to make you understand Why I do, what I do, Why I must travel to a distant land Far from the home I love?

Once I was happily content to be As I was, where I was Close to the people who are close to me Here in the home I love...

Who could see that a man would come Who would change the shapes of my dreams? Helpless, now, I stand with him Wtaching older dreams grow dim. Oh, what a melancholy choice this is, Wanting home, wanting him, Closing my heart to every hope but his, Leaving the home I love. There were my heart has settled long ago I must go, I must go. Who could imagine I'd be wand'ring so Far from the home I love? Yet, there with my love, I'm home.

I’ll Know

Guys and Dolls

Frank Loesser

For I've imagined every bit of him from the strong moral fiber to the wisdom in his head… To the home-y aroma of his pipe The breakfast-eating, Brooks-brothers type. Yes, and I shall meet him when the time is right. I'll know when my love comes along I won't take a change. I'll know he'll be just what I need Not some fly-by-night Broadway romance. And you'll know at a glance by the two-pair of pants. I'll know by the calm steady voice Those feet on the ground. I'll know as I run to his arms That at last I've come home safe and sound. Until then, I shall wait. Until then, I'll be strong. Oh, I'll know, when my love comes along.

Some People

Gypsy

music by Jule Styne, lyrics by Stephen Sondheim

Anybody that stays home is dead. If I die it won't be from sitting, it will be from fighting to get up and get out! Some people can get a thrill knitting sweaters and sitting still. That's okay for some people who don't know they're alive.

Some people can thrive and bloom living life in the living room. That's perfect for some people of one hundred and five. But I at least gotta try when I think of all the sights that I gotta see and all the places I gotta play, all the things that I gotta be yet. Come on, papa, what do you say?

Some people can be content playing bingo and paying rent. That's peachy for some people, for some hum-drum people to be, but some people ain't me! I had a dream, a wonderful dream, papa, all about June in the Orpheum circuit. Gimme a chance and I know I can work it. I had a dream. Just as real as can be, papa. There I was in Mr. Orpheum's office and he was saying to me, "Rose, get yourselves some new orchestrations, new routines and red velvet curtains. Get a feathered hat for the baby; photographs in front of the theatre. Get an agent and in jig time you'll be being booked in the big time." Oh, what a dream. A wonderful dream, papa. And all that I need is eighty-eight bucks, papa. That's what he said, papa. Only eighty-eight bucks.

Stay With Me

Into the Woods

Stephen Sondheim

What did I clearly say? Children must listen.

What were you not to do? Childrem must see- And learn.

Why could you not obey? Children should listen. What have I been to you? What would you have me be? Handsome like a Prince? Ah, but I am old. I am ugly. I embarass you. You are ashamed of me. You are ashamed. You don't understand. I was not company enough? Don't you know what's out there in the world? Someone has to shield you from the world. Stay with me. Princes wait there in the world, it's true. Princes, yes, but wolves and humans, too. Stay at home. I am home.

Who out there could love you more than I? What out there that I cannot supply? Stay with me. Stay with me, the world is dark and wild. Stay a child while you can be a child. With me.

I Am Ashamed that Women are so Simple

Kiss Me Kate

Cole Porter

I am ashamed the women a so simple To offer war where they should kneel for peace, Or seek to rule, supremacy, and sway When they are bound to serve, love and obey. Why are our bodies soft and weak and smooth, Unapt to toil and trouble in the world, But that our soft conditions and our hearts Should well agree with our external parts? So hold your temper, wife, and meekly put Your hand 'neath the sole of your husband's foot, In token of which duty, if he please, My hand is ready, Ready, May it do him ease.

Hurry It’s Lovely Up Here

On a Clear Day, You Can See Forever

music by Burton Lane, lyrics by Alan Jay Lerner

Hey buds below ... up is where to grow. Up with which below can't compare with. Hurry - it's lovely up here ... Life down a hole takes an awful toll, What with not a soul there to share with Hurry - it’s lovely up here! Wake up, bestir yourself, it's time that you disinter yourself You’ve got a spot to fill - a pot to fill And what a gift package of showers, sun and love You’ll be met above everywhere with, Fondled and sniffed by millions who drift by, Life here is rosy - if you’re a posy Hurry it's lovely here! Climb up geranium, it can’t be fun subterran-ium On the exterior, it’s cheerier RSVP peonies, pollinate the breeze, Make the queen of bees hot as brandy Come give at least a preview of Easter Come up and see the good we're giving Come up and see the grounds for living Come poke your head out, Open up and spread out, Hurry it’s lovely here!

"Dear Friend"

She Loves Me

music by Jerry Bock, lyrics by Sheldon Harnick

Dear Friend... I am so sorry about last night, it was a nightmare in every way, but together you and I will laugh at last night someday....Ice cream. He brought me ice cream! Vanilla Ice cream! Imagine that! Ice cream, and for the first time, we were together without a spat! Friendly, he was so friendly, that isn't like him; I'm simply stunned. Will wonders never cease? Will wonders never cease? It's been a most peculiar day! Will wonders never cease? Will wonders never cease?....

Oh, where was I! I am so sorry about last night, it was a nightmare in every way but together you and I will laugh at last night someday! I sat there waiting in that cafe and never guessing that you were fat...UGH! That you were near..you were outside looking bold...Oh my! Dear Friend, I am so sorry about last night.... Last night I was so nasty! Well, he deserved it but even so, That George is not like this George, this is a new George that I don't know. Somehow it all reminds me of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde When right before my eyes a man that I despise has turned into a man I like! It's almost like a dream as strange as it may seem... He came to offer me Vanilla ICE CREAM!

"Look at The Sky"

Urinetown

Mark Hollmann

Off in the distance There's a beautiful horizon - Gleaming and radiant It's what I'll keep my eyes on - As the world turns to face the sun And start another day It suddenly Occurs to me That maybe we can find another way Look at the sky Full of hope and promise It's a shining ideal How I reel When I look at the sky. Daily we make them pay Their nickles dimes and quarters - Daily we break them 'Cause we have to follow orders And we keep filling moneybags With broken lives and dreams But what's it for? I can't ignore These black immoral Profit-making schemes. Look at the sky High above this madness! Here below feel our shame! It must stop in the name Of the sky!

"Millwork"

Working

James Taylor

Now my granddad was a sailor, He blew in off the water My father was a farmer I, his only daughter, Took up with a no-good millworking man from Massachusetts Who dies from too much whiskey And leaves me these three faces to feed. Millwork ain't easy; mill-work ain't hard Millwork, it ain't nothing but an awful boring job I'm waiting for a day dream To take me through the morning And put me in my coffee break Where I can have a sandwich and remember

Then it's me and my machine, for the rest of the morning For the rest of the afternoon and the rest of my life

Now my mind begins to wander to the days back on the farm. I can see my father smiling at me, Swingin' on his arm I can hear my grand-dad's stories of the storms out on Lake Erie Where vessels and cargos and fortunes and sailor's lives were lost

Yes, but it's my life has been wasted, And I have been the fool To let this manufacture use my body for a tool. I can ride home in the evening, Staring at my hands swearing by my sorrow that a young girl ought to stand a better chance

So may I work the mills Just as long as I am able And never meet the man whose Name is on the label

It be me and my machine For the rest of the morning For the rest of the afternoon And the rest of my life.

"Little Known Facts"

You’re a Good Man Charlie Brown

Clark Gesner

D'you see this tree? It is a fir tree. It's called a fir tree because it gives us fur for coats. And it also gives us wool In the winter time This is an elm tree It's very little But it will grow up Into a giant tree And Up! You can tell how old it is By counting its leaves

And way up there Those fluffy little white things, Those are clouds They make the wind blow And way down there Those tiny little black things Those are bugs They make the grass grow

That's right They run around all day long Tugging and tugging at each tiny seedling 'till it grows into a Great tall blade of grass And this thing here It's called a hydrant They grow all over And no one seems to know Just how A little thing like that gives so much water You see that bird? It's called an eagle But since it's little it has another name A sparrow And on Christmas and Thanksgiving We eat them

And way up there The little stars and planets Make the rain That falls in showers And when it's cold And winter is upon us The snow comes up! Just like the flowers!

After it comes up The wind blows it around so It looks like it's coming down But actually It comes up out of the ground like grass! It comes up Charlie Brown! Snow comes up! To loosen the bark to make the tree grow Faster Clouds can make the wind blow Bugs can make the grass grow So There you go! These are little known facts that now You know!

"Extraordinary"

Pippin

Stephen Schwartz

Patching the roof and pitching the hay is not my idea of a perfect day. When you're extraordinary you gotta do extraordinary things. I'm not the type who loses sleep over the size of the compost heap when you're extraordinary, you think about extraordinary things

That's the reason I'll never be the kind of man who dwells on how moths got into the tapestry or why the dungeon smells

Oh, it's hard to feel special, it's hard to feel big feeding the turtle and walking the pig it's so secondary to someone who is very extraordinary like me

If the moat won't stop leaking and the goat won't stop shrieking and the griffin keeps losing its hair. If the west wing is rotting and our best wine is clotting, well, I'm terribly sorry but I don't care

I've got to be someone who lives all of his life in superlatives. When you're extraordinary you gotta do extraordinary things

Every so often a man has a day, he truly can call his. Well, here I am to seize my day if someone would just tell me when the hell it is

Oh give me my chance, and give me my wings and don't make me think about everyday things. They're unnecessary to someone who is very extraordinary like me!

"There Won’t Be Trumpets"

Anyone Can Whistle

Stephen Sondheim

he may be dashing, or maybe he's a farmer. We can wait, what's another day?
He has lots of hills to climb and a hero doesn't come till the nick of time! Don't look for trumpets or whistles tooting to guarantee him! There won't be trumpets, but sure as shooting you'll know him when you see him!

Don't know when, don't know where, and I can't even say that I care! All I know is, the minute you turn and he's suddenly there, There won't be trumpets!
There are no trumpets! Who needs trumpets?

"Anthem"

Chess

Lyrics Tim Rice and music by Björn Ulvaeus and Benny Andersson

Anatoly:

No man, no madness-- though their sad power may prevail-- can possess, conquer, my country's heart. They rise to fail. She is eternal-- long before
Nations' lines were drawn when no flags flew, when no armies stood-- my land was born.

And you ask me why I love her - through wars, death and despair--She is the constant, we who don't care. And you wonder will I leave her--But how? I cross over borders, but I'm still there now.

How could I leave her? Where would I start? Let man's petty nations tear themselves apart. My land's only borders lie around my heart.