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作词 : Stephen Sondheim
作曲 : Stephen Sondheim
How's it going?
Good. You?
Fair
Yeah, tell me
Russian Tea Room
Hi
Mary
Say hello
I think I got a job
Where?
True Romances
Posing?
Thank you. Writing captions
What about the book?
What about the book?
Nothing, are you working on the book?
Yes
Good
No
Mary—
Right, I know, yes, me and Balzac
I finished the one-act
I got an audition—
I started the story
Rehearsal pianist
So where are we eating?
I'm moving to Playboy
The publisher called me
I'm doing a rewrite
My parents are coming
I saw My Fair Lady
I rewrote the rewrite
I sort of enjoyed it
I threw out the story
I'm meeting an agent
We'll all get together on Sunday
We're opening doors
Singing, "Here we are!"
We're filling up days on a dime
That faraway shore's
Looking not too far
We're following every star—
There's not enough time!
I called a producer
I sent off the one-act
I started the story
He said to come see him
I dropped out of college
I met this musician
I'm playing a nightclub
They're doing my one-act!
I'm working for Redbook
I rewrote the ballad
I finished the story
We started rehearsals
I threw out the story
And then the musician
I'm moving to Popular Science
We're opening doors
Singing, "Look who's here!"
Beginning to sail on a dime
That faraway shore's
Getting very near!
We haven't a thing to fear—
We haven't got time!
Bum-bum-bu-bum-bum bum-bum
La-da-da-da-da da-dum
How's it coming?
Good. You?
Done
One minute
Hamburg Heaven
Hi
Mary
Say hello
I got another job
Where?
"Chic."
What's that?
A brand-new concept
Pop-up pictures
What about the book?
What about the book?
Did you give the publisher the book?
Yes
Good
No
Mary—
Look, I never— (Finished!)
Let me call you back (Right)
This is just a draft (Right)
Probably it stinks (Right)
Haven't had the time to do a polish—
Will you sing? (Right!)
Who wants to live in New York?
Who wants the worry, the noise, the dirt, the heat?
Who wants the garbage cans clanging in the street?
Suddenly I do
They're always popping their cork—
I'll fix that line—
The cops, the cabbies, the salesgirls up at Saks
You gotta have a real taste for maniacs—
Suddenly I do!
That's great! That's swell!
The other stuff as well
It isn't every day I hear a score this strong
But fellas, if I may
There's only one thing wrong
There's not a tune you can hum
There's not a tune you go bum-bum-bum-di-dum—
You need a tune to go bum-bum-bum-di-dum—
Give me a melody!
Why can't you throw 'em a crumb?
What's wrong with letting 'em tap their toes a bit?
I'll let you know when Stravinsky has a hit
Give me some melody!
Oh sure, I know
It's not that kind of show
But can't you have a score
That's sort of in between?
Look, play a little more
I'll show you what I mean!
Who wants to live in New York?
I've always hated the dirt, the heat, the noise
But ever since I met you, I—
Listen, boys
Maybe it's me
But that's just not a
Hum-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mable melody!
Write more, work hard—
Leave your name with the girl
Less avant-garde—
Leave your name with the girl
Just write a plain old melodee-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee
Dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee
They're stopping rehearsals
They ran out of money
We lasted one issue
My book was rejected
The nightclub was raided
I have to start coaching
My parents are coming
They screwed up the laundry
My wallet was stolen
I saw the musician
We're being evicted
I'm having a breakdown
We'll all get together on Sunday
They're slamming the doors
Singing, "Go away!"
It's less of a sail than a climb
That faraway shore's
Farther every day
We're learning to ricochet
We still have a lot to say
You know what we'll do?
What?
We'll do a revue
What?
What?
We'll do a revue of our own!
What?
Where?
Why?
When?
Not just songs, but stories, scenes
Piano pieces, mime—
Yeah!
"Frankly Frank!"
A showcase of our own!
Where?
The club's reopening
We'll write a lot of new stuff—
Rewrite old stuff—
What about the girl?
What about the girl?
Only that we're gonna need a girl
Well, Mary—
Thanks, I don't perform except at dinner
Who wants to live in New York?
Who wants the worry, the noise, the dirt, the heat?
Who wants the garbage cans—
Next!
I can sing higher!
Who wants to live in New York?
Who wants to live in New York?
Who wants to...?
Who wants to...?
Thank you for coming!
They're always popping their cork— (Up a tone.)
The cops, the cabbies, the salesgirls up at Saks— (Up a tone.)
You gotta have a real taste for maniacs—
Thank you. You're hired
I'm Beth
I'm Frank
I really thought I stank
I'm Mary
Charley
By the way
I'm told we open Saturday?
What!? You're not serious!
Nobody's ready!
Apparently somebody cancelled a booking
The songs aren't finished
And what about costumes?
And how do I learn all these numbers?
I'll bring you the copies of everything later this evening
We'll worry about it on Sunday!
We're opening doors
Singing, "Here we are!"
We're filling up days on a dime
That faraway shore's looking not too far
We're following every star—
There's not enough time!
We're banging on doors
Shouting, "Here again!"
We're risking it all on a dime
That faraway shore's looking near again
The only thing left is when
We know we should count to ten—
We haven't got time!
We haven't got time!
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