Lonny Price, Jason Alexander, Ann Morrison, Original Broadway Cast, Jim Walton, Marianna Allen and Sally Klein - Opening Doors
How's it going?
Good You?
Fair
Yeah, tell me
Chinese laundry
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 your 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 moving to 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-bum-da-da da-da
Bum-bum-bum-bum-bum bum-ba
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
I 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 hate 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!
Ah 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 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 clanging in the street?
Thank you for coming Next eight, please
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
Oh!
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
Not to mention I still haven't
Finished the Synanon song or the Kennedy number
Okay, but I'll have to have all the music
And Saturday I've got to sing at a wedding
Oh God, is there dancing, 'cause I'm not a dancer
You don't have to, we'll segue the
End of it into the dance we cut out
And have we decided or not on the restaurant sketch?
I need two or three days at the least to replace it
And what'll we do about getting publicity
Run around town putting stickers on windows?
No, we'll use it but not with the long introduction
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!
Written by:
Stephen Sondheim
Publisher:
Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
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