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 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 the 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
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-
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 de dum
You need a tune to go bum, bum, bum de dum
Give me a melody
Why can't you throw 'em a crumb?
What's wrong with letting them 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 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 hummable 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 melody, 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
I 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 sale, 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, mine, 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
Or a Mary
Thanks, I don't perform except at dinner
Who wants to live in New York?
Who the worry, the noise, the dirt, the heat?
Who wants the garbage cans clanging in the street?
Thank you, but we're looking for someone with more experience
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
Charlie
By the way, I'm told we open Saturday
What? You're not serious
Nobody's ready
Apparently somebody canceled 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
