70 Company (1g7o)
Book by George Furth
The Notion
A man with no emotional commitments reassesses his
life on his thirty-fifth birthday by reviewing his relationships
with his married acquaintances and his girlfriends.
That is the entire plot.
General Comments
My taste for experiment in the commercial theater was
formed early, when at the age of seventeen I was hired
for twenty-five dollars a week (not a bad sum at a time
when subway rides cost a nickel and orchestra seats cost
$4.40) to be Oscar's assistant on the third Rodgers and
Hammerstein show, Allegro. After the successes of Oklahoma!
and Carousel, it was expected that they would
deliver another homey, uplifting, straightforward piece of
storytelling. But just as Hammerstein had confounded
audiences with the novelty of Oklahoma!, so he did with
Allegro, which for Broadway musicals was startlingly
experimental in form and style. It chronicled on a bare
stage the first forty years of a man's life, a Greek chorus
taking the place of the conventional musical-comedy
chorus, commenting on events and charting the hero's
social and emotional life from his birth to his regeneration
in middle age. Unfortunately, its stylistic boldness
was more accomplished than its storytelling and it was
both a critical and commercial failure, which made it an
invaluable theater experience for me. I learned how the
best intentions of gifted professionals can be blunted
and blurred by egotism (Agnes de Mille, the director),
intransigence (Rodgers) and the chasm between imagination
and execution (Hammerstein). Cameron Mackintosh,
the astute producer of Side by Side by Sondheim (not to
mention The Phantom of the Opera and Les Miserables),
once said to me that I've spent my life trying to fix the
second act of Allegro. The more I think about the shows
I've worked on, which writing this retrospective has led .
me to do, the more I suspect he was right.
I had no idea Company would be so unsettling to
public and critics alike, but then I've been similarly naive
about almost every musical I've been connected with. In
each instance I've thought, "What am I worried about?
Its got clear melodies, regular rhythms, drama, humor,
nice orchestrations, good performers, colorful sets and
costumes-what could possibly upset a lover of traditional
musical comedy except for its mildly unconventional
approach?" and in each instance I've been stunned
by the polarized reactions of fervent admiration and
ferocious rejection-not unlike the responses to Allegro.
Company derives from a group of eleven brief one-act
plays written in the late 1960s by George Furth, an actor
I'd worked with briefly (in Hot Spot, an ill-fated venture
of 1963 to which I'd contributed a couple of songs) who
had just started writing for the theater. Most of the plays
concerned two people in a relationship (marriage, lovers,
close friends) joined by an outsider (best friend, ex-lover,
mere acquaintance) who serves as catalyst for the action.
A production of seven of the plays had been scheduled
and then canceled, and George asked me for advice on
where to go with them next. I passed them on to Hal
Prince, the best adviser I could think of. To our surprise
he suggested they be turned into a musical. To George
and me, the problem of merging unrelated scenes into a
unified evening seemed an impossible one to solve
(making the project irresistible) until we came up with
the now obvious solution-to turn the different outsiders
into a single person. We called him Robert, known
to his friends also as Bob, Bobby, Robby and Rob-o, and
soon the central theme of the evening emerged: the
challenge of maintaining relationships in a society
becoming increasingly depersonalized.
The form which grew out of this notion* combined
the constant changes of tone and style characteristic of
revues with the cohesive narrative tension of the "integrated"
musical. Revues, an outgrowth of vaudeville
consisting of unconnected songs, dances and comedy
sketches, had been a staple of Broadway since the turn of
the century, and there had even been a few revues with
"themes," such as the Moss Hart/Irving Berlin As Thousands
Cheer, in which each number and scene was related
to contemporary headlines. Most other musicals, except
for Hammersteins idiosyncratic Show Boat, sprinkled
the songs, dances and sketches into a flimsy, lighthearted
plot; these were called "book" musicals. With the
success of Oklahoma! in 1943, however, the book
musical became known as the "integrated" musical, a
musical which didn't merely contain songs but told a
story through them. This form served as the dominant
model for musical theater for decades and in its chronological
linear state still exists, although it now has
acquired, to use Lorenz Hart's phrase, "the faint aroma
of performing seals." Company does have a story, the
story of what happens inside Robert; it just doesn't have
a chronological linear plot. As far as I know, prior to
Company there had never been a plotless musical which
dealt with one set of characters from start to finish. In
1 970, the contradictory aspect of the experiment (a story
without a plot) was cause for both enthusiasm and
dismay. Audiences kept waiting for something to happen,
some incident that would lead to another that
would lead to another, and were baffled when nothing
did. Thus was born the "concept musical," a meaningless
umbrella term used to describe this new amalgam of old
forms. Many shows before Company had "concepts," but
of different sorts: not only As Thousands Cheer, but also
OfThee I Sing (cartoon satire), The Cradle Will Rock (bare
stage agitprop), Love Life (history as vaudeville), West Side
Story (choreography as the chief means of narrative),
Cabaret (night club interludes commenting on the plot),
even Oklahoma! (dream ballets and an individualized
chorus). Company oonfused the commentators, however,
and they needed to come up with a convenient label for it.
The show takes place not over a period of time, but in
an instant in Robert's mind, perhaps on a psychiatrist's
couch, perhaps at the moment when he comes into his
apartment on his thirty-fifth birthday. The framework is a
surreal surprise party for him, which opens and closes
each act. t The scenes which take place in between are all
observations which he makes about his married friends,
his girlfriends and himself. And because he is the cam•
Principle 1 : Content Dictates Form.
t Or at least it did in the initial production. In subsequent ones, the
party at the end of the first act was replaced by the song "Marry Me a
Little."
1 6 6 · C O M P A N Y
era, as in Christopher Isherwoods famous metaphor,
Robert has often been accused by the show's detractors of
being a cipher, a void at the heart of the piece. This view
was changed significantly withjohn Doyle's remarkable
production on Broadway in 2006. In his "concept" all of
the characters played musical instruments, constituting
the orchestra for the show-all, that is, except for
Robert, who played only a brief kazoo solo until the
end of the evening, when, accepting his vulnerability, he
accompanied himself at a piano to sing "Being Alive,"
his orchestral friends gradually joining in to support
him.+ The result was that perhaps for the first time in the
history of the show the character moved the audience. In
part, this was due to the charismatic performance of Raul
Esparza, who played Robert, but primarily it was due
to Doyles theatrical metaphor. In Hal Prince's elegant
original production, the stage had been a metaphor for
New York City, made spectacular by Boris Aronson's
chrome-and-Plexiglas set (complete with translucent
elevator); in Sam Mendes's more intimate 1996 London
version, the stage had been a bare suggestion of Robert's
apartment, representing his internal emptiness. In both
cases, the theatrical feeling was one of removal, accurate
for the character but distancing for the audience, and the
show was labeled "cold" even by its admirers; Robert,
despite his ultimate song, never became sufficiently alive.
"Cold" is an adjective that frequently crops up in complaint
about the songs I've written, both individually and
in bulk, and it all began with Company. Company was my
first full immersion in evening-length irony-irony not
merely employed as a tone for stray individual songs like
"Gee, Officer Krupke" and Caras numbers in Anyone Can
Whistle, but as the modus operandi of an entire score.
Company, in fact, was the first Broadway musical whose
defining quality was neither satire nor sentiment, but
irony. It was an observational musical, told at a dry
remove from beginning to end; in that sense, it was a
descendant of Allegro, although Allegro had not a drop of
irony in its heartfelt soul. Of course many plays, from
Restoration comedy onward, have been purveyors of
irony-Brecht built a body of work on it-and a number
ofmusicals like Cabaret contained ironic moments, but
Company was suffused with it. Most of the shows I did
with Hal had this observational aspect to them, the
exceptions being Sweeney Todd and, to a lesser extent,
A Little Night Music, both of which, not without significance,
had been suggestions of mine. The truth is that
Hal was the ironist (witness Evita and Lovemusik, among
others, both of which he encouraged and directed), and I
the romantic (Sunday in the Park with George and Passion,
for example), which is one of the reasons that our collaboration
was so good. Nevertheless, "cold" has been
+ A notion exactly like the idea Richard Rodgers rejected for "Do I
Hear a Waltz?" although Doyle arrived at it entirely on his own.
the handy earmark for my work ever since, the ostentatious
literacy of some of the lyrics only compounding
the felony. Continued exposure to the songs over the
years seems to have instituted a thaw, but whether thats
merely wishful thinking on my part or not, Company is a
show I'm extremely happy with. It influenced musicals,
for good and ill, for years afterward and continues to
do so. lt made a lot of grown-ups who had disdained
musicals take them seriously and it not incidentally gave
me my first good notices.
Writing the score for Company presented the same
difficulty as writing the score for Forum but for entirely
different reasons. Forum required songs that were essentially
nothing more than punctuation and didn't advance
the plot; here there was no plot to advance. More difficult
still, George Furth's dialogue was sharp, fast and
witty but self-sufficient; it not only didn't lead naturally
into song, it virtually precluded it. The only effective
approach I could come up with was quasi-Brechtian:
songs which either commented on the action, like "The
Little Things You Do Together," or were the action, like
"Barcelona,"-but never part of the action. They had to
be the opposite ofwhat Oscar had trained me to write,
even though he himself had experimented with songs of
that kind in (of course) Allegro. I decided to hold the
score together through subject matter: all the songs
would deal either with marriage in one sense or another,
or with New York City.
That solution led to a bigger difficulty: I knew almost
nothing about the primary subject. I had never married,
or even been in a long-term relationship. Of course, I
hadn't known anything about 1929 Brooklyn or New
York street gangs or ancient Rome either, but in those
other shows, I'd had scripts to guide me and plots to
animate. Here was the unknown Kingdom of Marriage
and I was stuck with making enough and varied comments
on it to fill an evening, since there were neither
stories to tell nor characters who needed fleshing out in
song. How could I write about relationships (a buzzword
in the sixties) without merely reiterating the received
wisdom I'd gleaned from plays and movies and sitcoms?
As in the case of Saturday Night, I relied on Faulkner$
remark about experience, observation and imagination
and decided to talk to someone with experience, since I
felt I could supply the observation and imagination. I
asked Mary Rodgers, a songwriter herself, to tell me what
she knew about marriage. (I figured it was the least she
could do after steering me into Do I Hear a Waltz?) She
had recently begun her second attempt at it and she
knew enough to know what she didn't know, which
made her comments fresh, personal discoveries rather
than predigested truisms. I took notes-literally-as we
talked. For me it may have been secondhand experience,
but it was experience nonetheless, and fulfilled
Faulkner's dictum enough to give me the confidence to
go ahead and write the score.
With George Furth, Harold Prince and Michael Bennett
C O M P A N Y · 1 6 7
ACT ONE
Robert, thirty-five years old and unmarried,
enters his apartment and is confronted
with a surprise birthday party
given by his best friends, five married
couples: Sarah and Harry, Peter and
Susan, jenny and David, Amy and Paul,
joanne and Larry. Strangely, they don't
seem to know each other; the party has a
dreamlike quality, a surreal hush. The
seemingly breezy banter is slightly disjointed
and detached, culminating in a
toneless "Happy Birthday," after which
the assemblage presents Robert with a
cake, the candles ofwhich he is unable to
blow out. As everyone commiserates with
him for not getting his wish, he demurs
that it doesn't matter: he didn't make one.
Their voices begin to hammer at him.
Company
J E N N Y
Bobby . . .
P E T E R
Bobby . . .
A M Y
Bobby baby . . .
PAU L
Bobby bubi . . .
J O A N N E
Robby . . .
S U S A N
Robert darling . . .
(Lines begin to overlap and continue to
do so until Robert sings)
D AV I D
Bobby, we've been trying to call
you . . .
O T H E R S
Bobby . . . Bobby . . . Bobby
baby . . . Bobby bubi . . .
1 6 8 · C O M P A N Y
S A R A H
Angel, I've got something to tell
you . . .
O T H E R S
Bob . . . Rob-o . . . Bobby,
love . . . Bobby, honey . . .
A M Y , PAU L
Bobby, we've been trying to reach you
all day . . .
O T H E RS
Bobby . . . Bobby . . . Bobby
baby . . . Angel . . . Darling . . .
D AV I D , J E N N Y
The kids were asking, Bobby . . .
O T H E R S
Bobby . . . Robert . . . Robby . . .
Bob-o . . .
L A R RY , J O A N N E
Bobby, there was something we
wanted to say
O T H E R S
Bobby . . . Bobby bubi . . .
Sweetheart . . . Sugar . . .
D AV I D , J E N N Y
Your line was busy . . .
P E T E R
What have you been up to, kiddo?
A M Y , PAU L
Bobby, Bobby, how have you been?
H A R RY , S A R A H
Fella . . . Sweetie . . . How have you
been?
P E T E R , S U S A N
Bobby, Bobby, how have you been?
D AV I D , J E N N Y , J O A N N E ,
L A R RY
Stop by on your way home . . .
A M Y , PAU L
Seems like weeks since we talked to
you . . .
P E T E R , S U S A N
Bobby, we've been thinking o fyou . . .
D AV I D , J E N N Y , J O A N N E ,
L A R RY
Drop by anytime . . .
A M Y , PA U L
Bobby, there's a concert on
Tuesday . . .
D AV I D , J E N N Y
Hank and Mary get into town tomorrow
. . .
P E T E R , S U S A N
How about some Scrabble on Sun­
day?
S A R A H , H A R RY
Why don't we all go to the beachJ
O A N N E , L A R RY
Bob, we're having people in Saturday
night . . .
H A RRY, S A R A H
-next weekend?
O T H E R S
Bobby . . . Bobby . . . Bobby baby . . .
D AV I D , J E N N Y
Whatcha doing Thursday?
O T H E R S
Bobby . . . Angel . . . Bobby bubi . . .
S A R A H , H A R RY
Time we got together, is Wednesday
all right?
O T H E R S
Bobby . . . Rob-o . . . Bobby,
honey . . .
A M Y , PA U L
Eight o'clock on Monday
O T H E R S
Robby darling . . . Bobby
fella . . . Bobby baby . . .
A L L E X C E P T R O B E RT
H A R RY , S A R A H Bobby, come on over for dinner!
Bobby, we've been thinking of you . . . We'll be so glad to see you!
-- ----ttt----- ------
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Bobby, come on over for dinner!
just be the three of us,
Only the three of us!
We looooove you!
R O B E RT
(To the audience)
Phone rings,
Door chimes,
In comes company!
No strings,
Good times,
Room hums, company!
Late nights,
Quick bites,
Party games,
Deep talks,
Long walks,
Telephone calls.
Thoughts shared,
Souls bared,
Private names,
All those
Photos
Up on the walls,
"With love . . ."
With love filling the days,
With love seventy ways,
'To Bobby with love"
From all those
Good and crazy people, my friends,
These good and crazy people, my
married friends!
And thats what its all about, isn't it?
That's what it's really about,
Really about!
(His three girlfriends enter)
A P R I L
Bobby . . .
KAT H Y
Bobby . . .
M A RTA
Bobby baby . . .
PA U L
Bobby bubi . . .
J O A N N E
Robby . . .
S U S A N
Robert darling . . .
1 7 0 · C O M P A N Y
S A R A H
Angel, will you do me a favor?
(Lines begin to overlap, as before)
O T H E R S
Bobby . . . Bobby . . .
R O B E RT
Name it, Sarah.
O T H E R S
Bobby baby . . . Bobby bubi . . .
P E T E R
Listen, pal, I'd like your opinion . . .
O T H E R S
Bob . . . Rob-o . . .
R O B E RT
Try me, Peter . . .
O T H E R S
Bobby love . . . Bobby honey . . .
L A R RY , A M Y
Bobby, there's a problem, I need your
advice . . .
O T H E R S
Bobby . . . Bobby . . . Bobby
baby . . . Angel . . . Darling . . .
A P R I L , K AT H Y , M A RTA
just half an hour . . .
R O B E RT
Amy, can I call you back tomorrow?
D AV I D , J E N N Y
Honey, if you'd visit the kids once or
twice . . .
O T H E R S
Bobby . . . Bobby . . . Bobby
bubi . . . Sweetheart . . . Sugar . . .
A P R I L , K AT H Y , M A RTA
What's happened to you?
H U S B A N D S
Fella . . . kiddo . . . Where have you
been?
A P R I L , KAT HY , M A RTA
Bobby . . . Bobby . . . How have you
been?
H A R RY, S A RA H , P E T E R , S U S A N
Stop by on your way home . . .
R O B E RT
Susan, love, I'll make it after seven if
I can . . .
W I V E S
Bobby, dear, I don't mean to pry . . .
H U S B A N D S
Bobby, we've been thinking of you!
A P R I L , KAT H Y , M A RTA
Bobby, we've been thinking of you!
PAU L , A M Y , J O A N N E , L A R RY ,
D AV I D , J E N N Y
Drop by anytime . . .
R O B E RT
Sorry, Paul, I made a date with Larry
and joanne . . .
W I V E S
Bobby dear, it's none of my
business . . .
H U S B A N D S
Lookit, pal, I have to work Thursday
evening . . .
W I V E S
Darling, you've been looking
peculiar . . .
H U S B A N D S
Bobby boy, you know how I hate the
opera . . .
W I V E S
Funny thing, your name came up
R O B E RT only last night . . .
jenny, I could take them to the zoo on
Friday . . . R O B E RT
Harry . . . David . . . Kathy, IW
I V E S
Bobby . . . Bobby . . . Where have you A P R I L , KAT H Y , M A RTA
been? I shouldn't say this, but-
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R O B E RT
April . . . Marta . . . Listen, peopleW
I V E S
Bobby, we've been worried, you sure
you're all right?
H U S B A N D S
Bobby . . . Bobby . . . Bobby baby . . .
A P R I L , K AT H Y , M A RTA
Did I do something wrong?
H U S B A N D S
Bobby bubi, Bobby fella, Bobby,
Bobby . . .
A L L E X C E P T R O B E RT
Bobby, come on over for dinner!
We'll be so glad to see you!
Bobby, come on over for dinner!
Just be the three of us,
Only the three of us!
We loooooooooooooooove you!
Phone rings,
Door chimes,
A L L
In comes company!
No strings,
Good times,
Just chums, company'
Late nights,
Quick bites,
Party games,
Deep talks,
Long walks,
Telephone calls,
Thoughts shared,
Souls bared,
Private names,
All those
Photos
Up on the walls,
"With love . . ."
With love filling the days,
With love seventy ways,
"To Bobby with love"
From all those (these)
Good and crazy people, my (your)
friends,
Those (These) good and crazy people,
my (your) married friends!
And that's what it's all about, isn't it?
That's what it's really about.
That's what it's really about,
Really about!
A L L E X C E PT R O B E RT
Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it?
R O B E RT
(Simultaneously, with the others)
You I love and you I love and you and
you I love
And you I love and you I love and
you and you I love, I love you!
A L L
Company! Company!
Company! Lots of company!
Years of company!
Love is company!
Company!
Here I was again, as with Forum, faced
with the problem of writing an opening
number which would not only set the
theme and tone and introduce the
characters but would also, with Hal's
insistent urging, be called "Company"not
coincidentally, the title of the
show. I knew it was an impossible
word to rhyme without tortuous attempts
like "bump a knee," which
Lorenz Hart had already used and
which, like any novelty rhyme,
couldn't be used repeatedly and therefore
was unworkable as part of a refrain.
The solution was to rhyme as
many words in the refrain as possible
except for the title, and rhyme them as
frequently as possible in order to reflect
the repetitive quality of Robert's
life.
Incidentally, "loooooooooooooooove"
was sung on one note, and held a
lot longer than what it looks like on
paper: forty seconds, to be exact. This
was not for purposes of irony; it was
the time Michael Bennett needed to
choreograph the fourteen members of
the cast from their scattered positions
on a half-dozen stage levels into a climactic
wedge downstage center in
time for the second chorus. With Boris
Aronson's help, 1 estimated how long
it would take for the elevator to rise
and fall and the actors to descend the
staircases, and then had to find something
for them to sing that would be
intelligible for forty seconds' worth of
running down steep glassine steps,
pushing through revolving doors and
riding down in an elevator. "Love"
conquered all, just as it's supposed
to do.
Robert visits Harry and Sarah, a fondly
competitive couple. Harry has discovered
that Sarah has been taking karate lessons
and challenges her to demonstrate her
skills. She throws him to the ground.
joanne appears on a balcony, looks down
at the scene and addresses us.
The Little Things You
Do Together
J O A N N E
It's the little things you do together,
Do together,
Do together,
That make perfect relationships.
The hobbies you pursue together,
Savings you accrue together,
Looks you misconstrue together
That make marriage a joy.
Mm-hm . . .
(Harry challenges Sarah again, but this
time he blocks her)
J O A N N E
It's the little things you share together,
Swear together,
Wear together,
That make perfect relationships,
The concerts you enjoy together,
Neighbors you annoy together,
Children you destroy together,
That keep marriage intact.
It's not so hard to be married
When two maneuver as one.
It's not so hard to be married,
And, Jesus Christ, is it fun.
It's sharing little winks together,
Drinks together,
Kinks together,
That makes marriage a joy.
It's bargains that you shop together,
Cigarettes you stop together,
C O M P A N Y • 1 7 3
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B�'COMPANr
. . · KNOW ABOUT THE SHOW
. WE ARE BRINGING IN- .
· WHICH OPENED IN .BOSTON
.· lASlTUESDAY NIGHT.
Dean Jones
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Clothing that you swap together
That make perfect relationships.
Uh-huh . . .
Mm-hm . . .
(Harry and Sarah are soon locked in
combat on thefloor. The other married
couples enter)
A L L
Its not talk o f God and the decade
ahead that
Allows you to get through the worst.
Its "I do" and "You don't" and
"Nobody said that"
And "Who brought the subject up
first?"*
* Here is the original quatrain:
It's not the profound philosophic discussions
That getyou through desperate nights.
It's not talk ofGod and the moon and the
Russians,
It's who gets to turn out the lights.
There are times when you have to sacrifice
smoothness for conversational energy. This
was not one of them. I should have stuck to
the original.
1 7 4 · C O M P A N Y
It's the little things, M E N , J 0 A N N E
The little little little little little things . . . It's not so hard to be married.
J E N N Y , D AV I D , A M Y , PA U L W O M E N
The little ways you try togetherS
U S A N , P E T E R , J O A N N E ,
LARRY
Cry togetherJ
E N N Y , D AV I D , A M Y , PA U L
Lie togetherG
R O U P
That make perfect relationships.
S U S A N , P E T E R , J O A N N E ,
LA RRY
Becoming a cliche togetherJ
E N N Y , D AV I D , A M Y , PA U L
Growing old and gray togetherJ
O A N N E
Withering away togetherG
R O U P
That makes marriage a joy.
It's much the cleanest of crimes.t
M E N , J O A N N E
Its not so hard to be married,
J O A N N E
I've done it three or four times.
J E N N Y
Its people that you hate together,
PAU L , A M Y
Bait together,
P E T E R , S U S A N
Date together,
t This line is a meaningless embarrassment,
but "times" is a hard word to rhyme in this
context, and I didn't have the strength to let go
of the punch line which follows. It's a common
trap for lyricists: if the setup line sounds
forced, it announces a zinger to come, thereby
weakening the surprise when it does.
G R O U P
That make marriage a joy:
DAV I D
It's things like using force together,
L A R RY
Shouting till you're hoarse together,
J O AN N E
Getting a divorce together,
G R O U P
That make perfect relationships.
Uh-huh . . .
Kiss, kiss . . .
J O A N N E
Mm-hm.
The glibness of this lyric, which is by
turns amusing and irritating (at least
to me), is partly due to its being a list
song (see "Have an Egg Roll, Mr. Goldstone"),
hut also due to another, subtler
problem. One-idea songs like
Porter's "Let's Do It" are acceptable
because they are playful and clever
and not Making a Point. Here, making
the point over and over with the same
irony renders the lyric not only monotonous
hut condescending. I tried to
keep the touch as light as possible
by sprinkling the good lines far
from each other ("Children you
destroy together . . . Getting a divorce
together . . . Withering away together
. . ."), hut the tight triple-rhyme
scheme necessitated silliness and
vague generalities, which draw attention
to the lyricist rather than the
lyrics, even when they make sense
(do notions like "swear together"
and "bait together" really mean
anything?). The lyric succumbs to
sophistry because substance is too
often sacrificed for rhyme.
When I began to write the score for
Company, I realized that it was going
to require comment songs like the
ones in Forum, songs which "savor the
moment," in Burt Shevelove's phrase,
songs in which one idea is stated repeatedly,
with variations. Thus the
tightly packed rhymes, to give it some
aural interest. But whereas in the title
song of Company the tight rhymes
serve to reflect the joyless repetitiveness
of Robert's life, here the tone is
one of easy sophistication, and more
the sophistication ofthe lyricist than
of the characters. "The Little Things"
is a decent, pointed idea for a list song,
hut it illustrates another common
snare for lyricists, the use of multiple
rhymes to conceal poverty of thoughtrhyming
poison. Tight rhyme schemes
may make for surface brilliance, hut
they can he as tiresome as they are
elaborate.
Such observations about this
perfectly respectable lyric may seem
unduly harsh, but that's because it
exemplifies some ofthe more obvious
holes into which "sophisticated"
lyrics can fall. Crowded and incessant
rhyming is something I deplore in the
work of others (Ira Gershwin, in particular),
hut something I'm not always
able to avoid myself, I regret to say.
It would he nice to claim that the
dinky xylophone-like accompaniment
of "Little Things" is meant to reflect
the brittle hollowness of Joanne and
her fellow sophisticates, hut in fact it's
the result of where I wrote it: on the
Queen Mary during my one transatlantic
boat trip. I was en route to deliver
the first few songs to Hal Prince,
who was shooting a movie in Bavaria,
and since ocean liners, like the plays
and musicals I had grown up with,
were on the way out, I decided to
travel in the old glamorous fashion.
The purser arranged for me to have
a small salon room, complete with
piano, so that I could work while I
traveled, assuaging my guilt over such
luxurious time-wasting. But the ship
kept listing to starboard and I unwittingly
kept sliding toward it on the
piano bench, resulting in a preponderance
of treble plinks. Thus is insightful
art produced.
After the scene with Harry and Sarah,
Robert asks Harry if he's sorry he got
manied. Two other husbands, Larry and
David, join the answer.
Sorry-Grateful
H A R RY
You're always sorry,
You're always grateful,
You're always wondering what might
have been.
Then she walks in.
And still you're sorry,
And still you're grateful,
And still you wonder and still you
doubt.
And she goes out.
Everything's different,
Nothing's changed,
Only maybe slightly
Rearranged.
You're sorry-grateful,
Regretful-happy:
Why look for answers where none
occur?
You always are what you always were,
Which has nothing to do with,
All to do with her.
D AV I D .
You're always sorry,
You're always grateful,
You hold her, thinking, "''m not
alone."
You're still alone.
You don't live for her,
You do live with her,
You're scared she's starting to drift
awayAnd
scared she'll stay:
LARRY
Good things get better,
Bad get worse.
Wait-1 think I meant that in reverse.
H A R RY , D AV I D , LARRY
You're sorry-grateful,
Regretful-happy,
Why look for answers where none
occur?
You'll always be what you always
were,
Which has nothing to do with,
All to do with her.
C O M P A N Y ' 1 7 5
Effortfulness is the defining characteristic
of Gershwin's lyrics. Unlike
Hart, Gershwin is conscientiously
meticulous in trying to play with
language and be conversational at the
same time, but unlike Berlin, Loesser
and Fields, to name the best of that
era's other conversational writers, he
makes you feel the sweat. Hart's lyrics
are sloppy but freewheeling, Gershwin's
are clenched. He is often
undone by his passion for rhyming,
for which he sacrifices both ease and
syntax. Harburg and he are habitual
users (sometimes overusers) of
closely knit rhyme schemes and
unexpected manufactured rhymes
such as the former's "Riddle I individ'l"
and the latter's "Free 'n' easy I
Viennesy." Gershwin takes the same
kind of verbal delight in the language
that Harburg does, deploying puns,
alliteration, even mild Harburg-like
word morphs ('"S Wonderful"), but
his technique isn't good enough to
hide the strenuousness of his applying
it. As with Hart, you can almost
always feel the straining for lapidary
brilliance while you listen, especially
when he crams the rhymes together,
as in this, from the verse to "How
Long Has This Been Going On?"
'Neath the stars,
At bazaars,
Often I've had to caress men.
Five or ten
Dollars, then
I'd collectfrom all those yes-men.
Don't be sad;
I must add
That they meant no more than
Chessmen.
In his insatiable need to rhyme,
Gershwin surrenders sense (How
often are charity bazaars conducted
outdoors at night? Do women sell
caresses-! thought they sold kisses,
and why are the singer's customers
"yes-men"?); stress ("Often I've had to
caress men"); and syntax (by "Five or
ten I Dollars, then I I'd collect . . ." he
means 'Then I'd collect five or ten
dollars").
That last syntactical convolution
comes under the heading of what
might be called songwriters' syntax,
the chief symptom of which is subjectobject
reversal (for example, "Into
Heaven I'm hurled" from the song
IR1\ GEIISII W I N
Rhyming Poison
above), a practice common in poetry,
mostly pre-twentieth-century poetry,
but one which both makes a contemporary
conversational lyric sound
anachronistic and draws attention to
the lyricist. Gershwin, like Hart and
Coward, frequently lapses into this
convention. Harburg and Porter
also use self-conscious technical
formalities, but theirs are subsumed
into individual styles (Harburg's being
whimsy, Porter's being camp) and they
rarely sacrifice gracefulness, as both
Gershwin and Hart do. Only Dorothy
Fields (and a bit later, Frank Loesser)
was as good as Berlin in making
technique unobtrusive. As I've said
before, there is nothing wrong with
being obtrusive: when Porter and
Harburg are at theirjuggling best,
who could ask for anything more (to
quote one of Gershwin's own phrases?
As long as the technique is worth
displaying, ostentation is fine. Gershwin
is in his element when he's writing
satirical shows like Of Thee I Sing,
where the push for far-out rhymes and
wordplay is part of the fun. As with a
"bad" (that is, forced) pun, the strain
behind it invites you to deplore it, and
therein lies its charm.
Away from his satirical bent,
Gershwin shares with Fields a natural
warmth and friendliness and, like
her, he is at his best when he's not
trying to show off, whereas Harburg
and Porter are at their best when
they're doing exactly that. The finest
lyric Gershwin wrote, and I'm
surprised that he's credited with it, is
"Oh, Bess, Oh Where's My Bess?",
one of the more thrilling songs in
Porgy and Bess. Most of the lyrics
for that show were the work of
Heyward, who also wrote the libretto,
but Gershwin wrote a few and
collaborated with Heyward on two.
As I noted earlier, Heyward's lyrics for
Porgy and Bess are, as a set, the most
beautiful and powerful in our
musical-theater history This is chiefly
owing to the fact that although he
was a poet rather than a lyricist, his
verse was colloquial enough for the
medium, and George Gershwin was
a collaborator inventive enough to
set what he wrote with minimum
changes and maximum force. Heyward's
lyrics-all of Act I and most
of the rest-set a style that only
sparingly uses rhyme, as in "Summertime"
and "My Man's Gone Now."
The songs for Porgy which George
wrote with Ira, however, were usually
written music first and words second,
which may account for lyrics like the
over-rhymed "It Ain't Necessarily So."
(Even if you accept the notion that
Sportin' Life is a smooth-talker, the
lyric is both too literate and too
laborious.) But "Oh, Bess, Oh
Where's My Bess?" is simple and
impressive and moving.
A songwriter friend of mine who
feels as I do about Ira Gershwin's
work suggested to me a possible
source for his obsession with rhyming.
It's the kind of insight which
smacks of ten-cent psychoanalysis but
one I've come to believe is true: Ira
was trying to match his brother's
brilliance. It was a kind of competition,
an attempt to invent and dazzle
(verbally) in equal measure to his
brother, not for public acclaim but for
his own sense of self. Chronologically,
he was the older brother, but my
guess is that as a collaborator he felt
like the younger. His work bespeaks a
generous, warm and talented man,
but his brother was a genius. There is
no comparison, and he was trying to
bridge the gap.
I recognize that this opinion, like
my opinion of Hart, is a heresy-no
two lyricists are worshipped more
in the American pantheon than Gershwin
and Hart-but the truth is that
Gershwin is too often convoluted and
Hart too often sloppy In Lyrics on
Several Occasions, Gershwin talks
about his lyrics with an ease I miss in
most of the examples. Here is one,
though, which rides along with the
effortless rhyming felicity he so
relentlessly pursued. It's a stanza from
"Let's Take a Walk Around the Block"
in Life Begins at 8:40:
You'rejust the companion
I want at Grand Canyon
For throwing old blades down the
rock.
Whatever we have'll
Gofor travelMeantime,
let's walk around the
block.
Of course, he co-wrote it with E. Y.
Harburg and it should have been the
Grand Canyon, but still . . .
H A R RY , LARRY
You'll always be what you always were,
Which has nothing to do with,
All to do with her.
H A R RY
Nothing to do with,
All to do with her.
Robert visits David and jenny. They
smoke pot and talk about Robert's being
single. He claims that he wants to get
married, and that he's been dating three
girls. The girls appear in limbo.
You Could Drive
a Person Crazy
KAT HY , M A RTA , A P R I L
Doo-doo-doo-doo,
Doo-doo-doo-doo,
Doo-doo-doo-doo doo-doo!
You could drive a person crazy,
You could drive a person mad.
Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo.
First you make a person hazy,
So a person could be had.
Doo-doo-doo-doo doo.
Then you leave a person dangling
sadly
Outside your door,
Which it only makes a person gladly
Want you even more.
I could understand a person
If he said to go away.
Doo-doo-doo-doo doo.
I could understand a person
If he happened to be gay. *
• The original quatrain:
I could understand a person
If it's not a person's bag.
I could understand a person
Ifa person was afag.
In 1970, the word "fag" was only faintly
demeaning, perfectly appropriate for the girls'
annoyance without being offensive to the
audience. By 1995 , when the show was hrst
revived on Broadway, it sounded not only
offensive but old-fashioned, so I changed it.
Doo-doo-doo-doo doo.
Boo-boo-boo-boo.
But worse 'n that,
A person that
Titillates a person and then leaves her
flat
Is crazy,
He's a troubled person,
He's a truly crazy person
Himself!
KAT H Y
When a person's personality is per­
sonable,
He shouldn't oughta sit like a lump.
It's harder than a matador coercin' a
bull
To try to get you off of your rump.
So single and attentive and attractive
a man
Is everything a person could wish,
But turning off a person is the act of
a man
Who likes to pull the hooks out of
fish.
KAT HY, MARTA , A P R I L
Knock, knock, is anybody there?
Knock, knock, it really isn't fair.
Knock, knock, I'm working all my
charms.
Knock, knock, a zombies in my arms.
All that sweet affection,
What is wrong?
Where's the loose connection?
How long, oh Lord, how long?
Bobby baby, Bobby bubi, Bobby,
You could drive a person buggy,
You could blow a person's cool.
Doo-doo-doo-doo doo.
Like you make a person feel all huggy
While you make her feel a fool.
Doo-doo-doo-doo doo.
When a person says that you've
upset her,
That's when you're good:
You impersonate a person better
Than a zombie should.
I could understand a person
If he wasn't good in bed.
Doo-doo-doo-doo doo.
I could understand a person
If he actually was dead.
Doo-doo-doo-doo.
Exclusive you,
Elusive you,
Will any person ever get the juice of
you?
You're crazy,
You're a lovely person,
You're a moving, deeply maladjusted,
Never to be trusted
Crazy person
Yourself!
(Spoken)
Bobby is my hobby and I'm giving
it up!
A further word about trick rhymes (see
Do IHear a Waltz?) like "Coercin' a
bull I Personable": Trick rhymes invest
the character who sings them with a
certain amount of wit, the amount depending
on the frequency ofthe
rhymes (for example, The Major General
in The Pirates ofPenzance). Also,
as I pointed out before, they draw attention
to their author; ifthey're not
written with ease and grace, they drip
with the lyricist's sweat. In this case I
was imitating a verbally playful stylethe
lighthearted Andrews Sisters patter
songs of the 194os-to contrast with the
acidity of what was being sung. I never
would have had Kathy sing the line as
an extension of her own dialogue.
Robert leaves. The five couples appear
and pepper him with invitations.
Have I Got a Girl
for You
J E N N Y
Bobby . . .
P E T E R
Bobby . . .
A M Y
Bobby Baby . . .
C O M P A N Y • 1 7 7
PAU L
Bobby Bubi . . .
A L L B U T R O B E R T
Robby . . .
S U S A N
Robert, darling . . .
A L L B U T R O B E RT
Bobby, we've been trying to reach
you . . .
S A R A H
Angel, I've got something to tell
you . . .
A M Y &: PA U L
Bobby, it's important or I wouldn't
call . . .
A L L B U T R O B E RT
Whatcha doing Thursday?
S A R A H &: H A R RY
Bobby, look, I know how you hate it,
and all . . .
A L L B U T R O B E RT
But this is something special!
Bobby, come on over for dinner,
There's someone we want you to
meet.
Bobby, come on over for dinner!
H U S B A N D S
This girl from the officeW
I V E S
My niece from OhioIt'll
just be the four of usYou'll
loooooooooooooooove her!
(The wives leave. The husbands corner
Robert)
L A R RY
Have I got a girl for you? Wait till you
meet her!
Have I got a girl for you, boy?
Hoo, boy!
Dumb-and with a weakness for
Sazerac slings:
You give her even the fruit and she
swings.
1 7 8 · C O M P A N Y
The kind of girl you can't send
through the mailsCall
me tomorrow, I want the details!
P E T E R
Have I got a chick for you? Wait till
you meet her!
Have I got a chick for you, boy?
Hoo, boy!
Smart! She's into all those exotic
mystiques:
The Kama Sutra and Chinese tech­
niquesI
hear she knows more than seventy­
fiveCall
me tomorrow if you're still alive!
Oliginally, Lany had the last word here
and a section ensued in which the wives
had their say, asfollows:
L A R RY
Dumb-and with a weakness for
Sazerac slings:
You give her even the fruit and she
swings.
But if the thing that you want is
restraint,
I'll take her out, pal,
And you can sit here with Old Paint.
(Jenny appears)
R O B E R T
Your hairdo looks great.
J E N N Y
Thank you, Bobby.
D AV I D
Your hairdo looks great.
J E N N Y
Well, it should-it's a wig.
(Sarah appears)
R O B E RT
You're losing some weight.
S A RA H
Thank you, Robert.
H A R RY
You're losing some weight.
S A R A H
And I look like a pig.
(Amy appears)
R O B E RT
That bracelet's a smash.
A M Y
Thank you, Bobby.
PA U L
That bracelet's a smash.
A M Y
It's not bad for a fake.
(Joanne appears)
R O B E RT
That dress has panache.
J O A N N E
Thank you, Robby.
L A R RY
That dress has panache.
J O A N N E
jesus, give me a break.
H U S B A N D S
Whaddaya like, you like laughter
filling your days,
Somebody on your side ever more?
Whaddaya like, you like constant
showers of praise?
Then whaddaya wanna get married
for?
Look what you got now, an army of
wives.
Flirt with them and nobody will
snitch.
You're in their heads, buddy, we're in
their lives.
Listen, you fortunate son of a bitch(The
wives take over)
S A R A H
Have I got a girl for you? Wait till you
meet her!
Have I got a girl for you, Bob?
Ooh, Bob!
Chic! I never saw so much chic in
my vie.
I must admit that she's terribly me.
However, somehow shes terribly
you . . .
Yes, dear, I know, but a young forty­
two.
W I V E S
(Overlapping)
Have I got a girl for you? Wait till you
meet her!
Have I got a girl for you, Bob?
Ooh, Bob!
J O A N N E
Perf! You've never seen so much perf
in one broad!
You'll have to curb yourself not to
applaud.
And all she wants is a man who's a
man.
Tall, blonde and rich and her name is
joanne.
The section was cut primarilyfor reasons
of length, but also because it made the
wives bitches and the husbands chumps, a
danger in a show where the women are
drawn more incisively than the men. In
its final incarnation, the song picked up
asfollows:
H U S B A N D S
Have I got a girl for you? Wait till you
meet her!
Have I got a girl for you, boy?
Hoo, boy!
Boy, to be in your shoes what I
wouldn't giver
mean the freedom to go out and
live!
And as for settling down and all
thatMarriage
may be where its been,
But it's not where it's at.
Whaddaya like, you like coming
home to a kiss?
Somebody with a smile at the door?
Whaddaya like, you like indescribable
bliss?
Then whaddaya wanna get married
for?
Whaddaya like, you like an excursion
to Rome,
Suddenly taking off to explore?
Whaddaya like, you like having meals
cooked at home7
Then whaddaya wanna get married
for?
Whaddaya wanna get married
for? . . .
Robert is left alone to ponder this.
Someone Is Waiting
R O B E RT
Someone is waiting,
Cool as Sarah,
Easy and loving as Susan­
jenny
Someone is waiting,
Warm as Susan,
Frantic and touching as Amy­
Joanne.
Would I know her even if I met her?
Have I missed her? Did I let her go?
A Susan sort of Sarah,
A jennyish joanneWait
for me, I'm ready now,
I'll find you if I canI
Someone will hold me,
Soft as jenny,
Skinny and blue-eyed as Amy­
Susan.
Someone will wake me,
Sweet as Amy,
Tender and foolish as Sarah,
joanne.
Did I know her? Have I waited too
long?
Maybe so, but maybe so has she,
My blue-eyed Sarah
Warmjoanne
Sweet jenny
Loving Susan
Crazy Amy,
Wait for me,
I'll hurry.
Wait for me.
Hurry
Wait for me . . .
Hurry . . .
Wait . . .
Robert sits on a park bench with April,
an airline stewardess. After she leaves,
Marta commentsfrom the sidelines.
Another Hundred
People
M A RTA
Another hundred peoplejust got off
of the train
And came up through the ground
While another hundred people just
got off of the bus
And are looking around
At another hundred people who got
off of the plane
And are looking at us
Who got off of the train
And the plane and the bus
Maybe yesterday.
It's a city of strangers:
Some come to work, some to play.
A city of strangers:
Some come to stare, some to stay.
And every day
The ones who stay
Can find each other in the crowded
streets
And the guarded parks,
By the rusty fountains and the dusty
trees
With the battered barks.
And they walk together past the
postered walls
With the crude remarks,
And they meet at parties through the
friends of friends
Who they never know.
Will you pick me up, or do I meet
you there,
Or shall we let it go?
Did you get my message, 'cause I
looked in vain?
Can we see each other Tuesday if it
doesn't rain7
Look, I'll call you in the morning
Or my service will explain . . .
And another hundred people just got
off of the train.
C O M P A N Y · 1 7 9
(April is replaced by Kathy, who tells
Robert that she's leaving New York to get
married. Marta comments again.)
M A RTA
It's a city of strangersSome
come to work, some to play.
A city of strangersSome
come to stare, some to stay.
And every day
Some go away . . .
Or they find each other in the
crowded streets
And the guarded parks,
By the rusty fountains and the dusty
trees
With the battered barks.
And they walk together past the
postered walls
With the crude remarks,
And they meet at parties through the
friends of friends
Who they never know.
Will you pick me up, or do I meet
you there,
Or shall we let it go?
Did you get my message, 'cause I
looked in vain?
Can we see each other Tuesday if it
doesn't rain?
Look, I'll call you in the morning
Or my service will explain . . .
And another hundred people just got
off of the train.
And another hundred people just got
off of the train.
And another hundred people just got
off of the train.
And another hundred people just got
off of the train.
And another hundred people just got
off of the train.
George Furth wrote Marta as a feisty,
outspoken, quintessentially New York
Jewish girl, not, one would think, a
hard part to cast on Broadway. Like
Kathy, she had no solo song; among
Robert's girlfriends only April had her
own musical moment, and even that
was part of a duet. After auditioning a
dozen fine unexciting possibilities, we
1 8 0 · C O M P A N Y
were suddenly confronted by a recently
graduated twenty-one-year-old
Cincinnati Conservatory student with
no stage experience named Pamela
Myers, who strode in purposefully,
belted out "Shy" from Once Upon a
Mattress and broke us up laughing,
then followed it with "Little Green Apples"
and broke us up crying. We knew
we had a "discovery" on our hands.
The only problem was that she was
blond, Midwestern, looked like a 4- H
poster girl and was about as Jewish as
the squeaky-clean MGM ingenue June
Allyson, whom she distantly resembled.
We held a brief but intense conference
about her inappropriateness
for the role. 'There ensued a version of
that glamorous moment which I had
seen in so many Hollywood movies
about show business (most famously
42nd Street), the moment I had hoped
I would some day be part of, when the
director picks an understudy or someone
out of the chorus, the songwriters
write her a great song and she becomes
a star overnight. As it happened
in our low-budgetversion, Hal turned
to George and said, "Think you can
rewrite Marta for this girl?" to which
George eagerly nodded; Hal then
swiveled to me and barked, "Can you
write a song for her, kid? Give her a
real spot?" I could feel the cameras
turning on me as I barked back, "Of
course!"
The result was "Another Hundred
People," a song Marta sang in the second
act. It was the only song in the
score not directly concerned with interpersonal
relationships and the
above explains why: it was written for
a performer instead of a characterwhich
makes me no less pleased with
it as a song. During rehearsals it
clearly threatened to stop the show
and indeed at the first preview on a
Saturday night in Boston did exactly
that. But the preview was also more
than three hours long and we were
scheduled to open to the press Tuesday,
so on Sunday we cut over twenty
minutes, most of them in the second
act-including, reluctantly but ruthlessly,
"Another Hundred People." On
Monday morning, with the cast assembled
in the front rows of the theater,
Hal outlined the changes we'd be
making over the next two days. When
he finished and there was a break before
the rehearsal began, I went to
where Pam was sitting on the aisle in
the fifth row. To my surprise she was
neither tearful nor ostentatiously stoic;
she was in fact so centered that I felt
any condolences on my part would be
condescending. Wanting to say something,
however, I blurted melodramatically,
still in my movie mode, "I'll
have that song back in by tomorrow
night!" Stuck in my fantasy, I returned
to my hotel room, that mythical place
where all shows get rewritten and
magically transformed from flops into
hits, and tried to figure out a way to
reinstate the song with a minimum of
change in the staging and lighting so
that I could sell it to Hal and Michael,
since they had only a few hours of rehearsal
in which to rework things. The
solution turned out to be simple:
I combined the three separate girlfriends'
scenes in the first act into one
scene by having them all take place on
the same park bench, and divided the
song into three sections, using it to
string the scenes together. Pressed as
they were for time, Hal and Michael
accepted the notion and the song went
back into the show Tuesday night, just
in time for the critics. My fantasy became
reality: Even the critics who disliked
the show loved Pam. It was a
triumph of her attitude as much as her
talent, exactly the way I had hoped:
Ruby Keeler in 42nd Street, with vari­
ations.
Robert is in Amy's kitchen. It is the morning
ofher wedding day, and Robert is best
man. Amy hasfinally consented to marry
Paul, with whom she has been livingfor
twoyears, but she is terrified ofmarriage,
and imagines theforthcoming ceremony.
Beth Howland as Amywith Dean ]ones as Robert
Getting 1\'larried
Today
C H U R C H L A D Y
(As a choir hums)
Bless this day, pinnacle of life,
Husband joined to wife.
The heart leaps up to behold
This golden day.
PA U L
(To Amy)
Today is for Amy.
Amy, I give you the rest of my life,
To cherish and to keep you,
To honor you forever.
Today is for Amy,
My happily
Soon-to-be
Wife.
A M Y
(To the audience)
Pardon me, is everybody there?
Because if everybodys there,
I want to thank you all for coming to
the wedding.
I'd appreciate your going even more,
I mean, you must have lots of better
things to do,
And not a word of it to Paul.
Remember Paul? You know, the man
I'm gonna marry,
But I'm not, because I wouldn't ruin
Anyone as wonderful as he isBut
I thank you all
For the gifts and the flowers.
Thank you all,
Now it's back to the showers.
Don't tell Paul,
But I'm not getting married today.
C H U R C H L A D Y
Bless this day, tragedy o f life,
Husband yoked to wife.
The heart sinks down and feels dead
This dreadful day.
A M Y
Listen, everybody,
Look, I don't know what you're
waiting for.
A wedding, whats a wedding?
It's a prehistoric ritual
Where everybody promises fidelity
forever,
Which is maybe the most horrifying
word I've ever heard,
And which is followed by a
honeymoon
Where suddenly he'll realize
Hes saddled with a nut
And want to kill me, which he
should.
So listen,
Thanks a bunch,
But I'm not getting married.
Go have lunch,
'Cause I'm not getting married.
You've been grand,
But I'm not getting married.
Don't just stand
There, I'm not getting married!
And don't tell Paul,
But I'm not getting married today.
Go!
Can't you go?
Why is noBody
listening?
C O M P A N Y · 1 8 1
rev. �A/70
AM:! (second verse - to replace "Tacq little
obapel• • ••)
LISTU EVERl:BODY, WOK, I
DON'T DOW WHAT YOU'RE WAITING FOR • A
WEDDIW, WHAT'S J. WEDDING? rl''S A
PREHISTORIC RLTUAL w�
&VIBDODI PROMISES nu.uD: FID.FJ.ITI
FORb"'VER \<a:iiCH IS
MA.IBE TUE l·DST HOJ:tiUF'IING
'WOlUl I EVEil HFARD AND \Wl.ICH IS
FOlLOWED BY A HOliElMOON WHERE
SUDDE.UY HE'LL REALI2.E HE'S
SADDLED WITH A hVl' AriD WANbl!
KILL ME AND HE SHOUW, 00 WOULD YOU
CLI&R THE HALLa•• • • •
LISTEN, EVERYBODY, I'M AFRAID
YOU DIDN 'T HEAR , OR DO YOU
WANT TO SEE A CRAZ Y LADY
FALL APART IN FRONT QJ:; YOU, IT
ISN'T ONLY PAUL WHO � BE .
RUINING HIS It!JE , YOU KNOW , WE 'LL
BOTH OF US AliJiE LOSING OUR � IDENTITIES
, I TELEPHONED MY
ANALYST ABOUT IT AND HE .�
SAID TO SE E HIM MONDAY BUT ·� · J,
MONDAY I'LL BE FLO,ATING IN THE
HUDSON WITH THE
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Goodbye!
Go and cry
At another persons wake.
If you're quick,
For a kick
You could pick
Up a christening,
But please,
On my knees,
There's a human life at stake!
Listen, everybody, I'm afraid you
didn't hear,
Or do you want to see a crazy lady
Fall apart in front of you?
It isn't only Paul who may be ruining
his life, you know,
We'll both of us be losing our
identities!
telephoned my analyst about it
And he said to see him Monday,
But by Monday I'll be floating
In the Hudson with the other
garbage.
I'm not well,
So I'm not getting married.
You've been swell,
But I'm not getting married.
Clear the hall,
'Cause I'm not getting married.
Thank you all,
But I'm not getting married.
And don't tell Paul,
But I'm not getting married today!
C H U R C H L A D Y
Bless this bride, totally insane,
Slipping down the drain,
And bless this day in our hearts,
As it starts to rain.
PAU L A M Y
Today is for Amy. Go, can't you go?
Amy, look, you know
I give you I adore you all,
The rest of my life, But why
Watch me die
To cherish Like Eliza on the
ice?
And to keep look, perhaps
You, I'll collapse
In the apse
To honor you Right before you
all,
Forever, So take
Back the cake,
1 8 4 · C O M P A N Y
Today is for Amy, Burn the shoes
and boil the
rice!
My happily
Soon-to-be
Wife,
My adorable
Wife!
look, I didn't
want to
have to tell you,
But I may be
coming down
with hepatitis
And I think I'm
gonna faint,
So if you wanna
see me faint,
I'll do it happily,
But wouldn't it
be funnier
To go and watch
a funeral?
So thank you for
the
Twenty-seven
dinner plates
and
Thirty-seven
butter knives
and
Forty-seven
paper weights
and
Fifty-seven
candle
holdersPA
U L
One more thingA
M Y
I am not getting married!
C H U R C H L A D Y , G U E S T S
Amen.
PAU L
-Softly said:
A M Y
But I'm not getting married!
C H U R C H L A D Y , G U E S T S
Amen.
PA U L
With this ringA
M Y
Still I'm not getting married!
C H U R C H L A D Y , G U E S T S
Amen.
PA U L
-I thee wed.
A M Y
See, I'm not getting married!
C H U R C H L A D Y , G U E S T S
Amen.
PA U L
let us pray,
And we are
Getting married
today.
A M Y
let us pray
That I'm not
Getting
married today!
O T H E R S
Amen!
I wrote this songjust before the show
began its tryout in Boston and never
had a chance to polish it properly. The
patter sections may seem difficult to
sing in one breath as they ought to be
sung, but in factthey're calculated to
alternate vowel and consonant sounds
in such a way as to make them easy
for the tongue, teeth and breath to
articulate, at least until the end of
the second section, when "which he
should" muddles the fluency. Worse
yet is the final section, as in " . . . he
said to see him Monday, I But by
Monday I'll be floating I In the Hudson
with the other garbage," with its
glued-together "m" sounds and its collision
of "I'll," "be" and "floating," all
of which require completely different
mouth formations. In the best rapid
patter songs, the faster you sing, the
easier it is-you need less breath and
the words flow trippingly off the
tongue.
Another point worth making:
I mentioned earlier thatthere were
sometimes reasons not to rhyme. This
is one of them. If I had rhymed the
lines in the patter, it would have implied
an organized control ofAmy's
thought processes, when in fact disorder
is the essence of hysteria. Simply
avoiding rhymes, however, would not
have been a satisfying solution; to give
unrhymed lines full value (that is, to
make them interesting and funny) you
have to keep the sounds of the accented
words as different from each
other as possible. Also, a completely
unrhymed song would have been monotonous
and shapeless, which is why
Amy suddenly starts to rhyme with a
vengeance in short, sharp, machinegun
rapidity, bespeaking another kind
of dementia.
It was for these reasons that I replaced
the original song, which in rehearsal
sounded over-rhymed and
annoyingly staccato. Here it is (showbusiness
argot keeps popping up in the
lyric because in the first version of the
scene much was made of Amy's being
a TV actress):
The \\"edding Is Off (cut)
A M Y
(After thefirst Choir section)
The music is swelling,
The guests are inside,
The parents are kvelling,
And look at the bride:
Beautiful gown, even at retailLamp
the veil, folks, notice the coif.
And another fabulous detail:
The wedding is off! *
(After the next Choir section)
The choir is singing,
The preacher's been paid,
The bells go on ringing!
hope it's a raid.
Staggering gifts, dazzling flowers,
Picturewise, the show is a hoffThanks
a heap, now back to the
showers,
The wedding is off!
* "Off' is always a dangerous word to rhyme
because, like a number of other words, its
pronunciation depends on regional idiosyncrasy.
New Yorkers would rhyme it with
"cough" whereas Bostonians would rhyme it
with "doff." I tried to have it both ways in this
lyric because I liked the tone of "coif' so
much. And there aren't many useful rhymes
for "off," anyhow.
Hey, chaps,
You can clear the apse.
And you on the keys,
Please
Play "Taps."
Be nice,
Kindly strike the rice.
I'm cutting the act, ankling the pact,
Chickening out, and as a matter of
factC
H O I R
Bless this day,
Pinnacle of lifeA
M Y
I know it's been rough, gang,
To come all this way.
Can't thank you enough, gangI
wish I could stay
Gotta cut out, due at the shrinker,
Plus I have this terrible coughFuturewise,
the show is a stinker(Another
Choir section, after which Amy
becomes completely hysterical)
Look, who's the musician?
Is this an audition?
No, something is oddWill
those who hear me, nod?
Look, I really don't mind it,
But who is behind it,
The Marquis de Sade?
(I'm only kidding, God!)
Look, if you enjoy public disaster,
If you like to snicker and scoff,
You can be sick forty times faster:
Go to a funeral, a funeral's groovy,
Sit through an Antonioni movie,
Look into National Geographic,
Watch a pedestrian killed in traffic,
But, sorry, folksThis
wedding is off!
(The last note she sings ascends until it
culminates in a scream)
In the original production in 1970, Act
One ended with Amy going off to marry
Paul and Robert back at his surreal party,
once again being presented with a birthday
cake. In the current version, Robert is
left alone onstage and sings:
�larry �le a Little
R O B E RT
Marry me a little,
Love me just enough.
Cry, but not too often,
Play, but not too rough.
Keep a tender distance,
So we'll both be free.
That's the way it ought to be.
I'm ready!
Marry me a little,
Do it with a will.
Make a few demands
I'm able to fulfill.
Want me more than others,
Not exclusively.
That's the way it ought to be.
I'm ready!
I'm ready now!
You can be my best friend.
I can be your right arm.
We'll go through a fight or two.
No harm, no harm.
We'll look not too deep,
We'll go not too far.
We won't have to give up a thing,
We'll stay who we are.
Right?
Okay, then,
I'm ready!
I'm ready nowI
Amy,
Marry me a little,
Love me just enough.
Warm and sweet and easy,
just the simple stuff.
Keep a tender distance
So we'll both be free.
That's the way it ought to be.
I'm ready!
Marry me a little,
Body, heart and soul.
Passionate as hell,
But always in control.
Want me first and foremost,
Keep me company
That's the way it ought to be.
I'm ready!
I'm ready now!
C O M P A N Y · 1 8 5
Oh, how gently we'll talk,
Oh, how softly we'll tread.
All the stings, the ugly things
We'll keep unsaid.
We'll build a cocoon
Of love and respect.
You promise whatever you like,
I'll never collect.
Right?
Okay, then,
I'm ready!
I'm ready now!
Someone,
I'm ready!
"Marry Me a Little" was intended to
be Robert's proposal to Amy after she
decides (temporarily) not to marry
Paul. I was halfway through writing it
when I realized I'd run into a problem
that often arises in playwriting: the
character who knows too much too
soon. When I write a song, I try to become
the character-or more accurately,
I try to be the actor who has to
play the character. A good actor will
not let you know where a scene is
going while he's playing it; he may
foreshadow it but he won't give away
the rest of its development or his
"journey" (the grandiose word so favored
by actors) in order to leave
himself someplace emotionally to go
during the course of the play. Similarly,
if you're writing a song to be
sung in the first act, even though you
know the character will kill himself at
the end of the second, it is a dramaturgical
mistake to write a lyric which
conveys that knowledge. Although I
understood this principle from having
worked with professional playwrights
like Arthur and Burt and Larry and
George, I was halfway through "Marry
Me a Little" before I recognized that if
Robert could articulate such thoughts
aloud to someone he cared for, he
would indeed have nowhere to go for
the rest of the show; he would have
completed his "journey." I therefore
abandoned it. After the show opened, I
finished the song as a favor to a friend,
and in the 1995 Roundabout Theater
production, at the suggestion of its director
Scott Ellis, we tried it out at the
1 8 6 · C O M P A N Y
end of Act One, where, because Amy
has turned Bobby down, it works well
as an internal monologue of despair
and self-deceptive determination. It
has remained there ever since.
ACT TWO
Robert is back at his birthday party,
surrounded once more by his married
friends.
Isn't it warm,
Isn't it rosy,
R O B E RT
Side by side by side?
Ports in a storm,
Comfy and cozy,
Side by side by side.
Everything shines.
How sweetR
O B E RT , J E N N Y , D AV I D
Side by sideBy
side.
Parallel lines
Who meetR
O B E RT
A M Y , PA U L , P E T E R , S U S A N ,
S A R A H , H A R RY , D AV I D , J E N N Y
Love him,
Can't get enough of him.
R O B E RT
Everyone winks,
Nobody's nosy,
Side by side by side.
You bring the drinks
And I'll bring the posyR
O B E RT , LA RRY, J O A N N E
Side by sideR
O B E RT
By side.
One is lonely and two is boring,
Think what you can keep ignoring,
Side by side by side.
C O U P L E S
Never a bother,
Seven times a godfather.
R O B E RT , A M Y , P A U L
Year after year,
Older and older . . .
A L L
Sharing a tear,
Lending a shoulder . . .
R O B E RT , P E T E R , S U S A N ,
S A RA H , H A R RY
Ain't we got fun?
No strain . . .
C O U P L E S
Permanent sun,
No rain.
We're so crazy,
He's so sane.
Friendship forbids
Anything bitter . . .
Being the kids
As well as the sitter . . .
R O B E RT
One's impossible, two is dreary,
Three is company, safe and cheery,
A L L ( E X C E P T R O B E RT A N D
S A R A H )
SideBy
sideBy
sideR
O B E RT
Here is the church,
Here is the steeple.
Open the doors and
See all the crazy married people!
(Thefollowing verses are broken up with
dance breaks, parades, a tug-of-war and
other choreographic punctuations)
C O U P L E S
What would we do without you?
How would we ever get through?
Who would I complain to for hours?
Who'd bring me the flowers
When I have the flu?
Who'd finish yesterday's stew?
Who'd take the kids to the zoo?
Who is so dear
And who is so deep,
And who would keep her/him
occupied
When I want to sleep?
How would we ever get through?
What would we do without you?
What would we do without you?
How would we ever get through?
Should there be a marital squabble,
Available Bob'!!
Be there with the glue.
Who could we open up to,
Secrets we keep from guess-who?
Who is so safe and who is so sound?
You never need an analyst with Bobby
around.
How could we ever get through?
What would we do without you?
What would we do without you?
How would we ever get through?
Who sends anniversary wishes?
Who helps with the dishes
And never says boo?
Who changes subjects on cue?
Who cheers us up when we're blue?
Who is a flirt but never a threat,
Reminds us of our birthdays which
we always forget?
How would we ever get through?
What would we do without you?
C O U P L E S
What would we do without you?
(Like a broken record)
How would we ever getHow
would we ever getHow
would we ever getHow
would we ever get-through?
What would we do without you?
R O B E RT
just what you usually do!
C O U P L E S
Right!
You who sit with us,
You who share with us,
You who fit with us,
You who bear with us,
You who, you-who, you-hoo,
You-hoo, you-hoo-!
R O B E RT
Okay, now everybody-!
A L L
Isn't it warm, isn't it rosy,
Side by side . . .
(Harry does a btiefdance break,
answered by Sarah)
Ports in a storm, comfy and cozy,
Side by side . . .
(Paul does a briefdance break,
answered by Amy)
Everything shines, how sweet,
Side by side . . .
(Larry does a briefdance break,
answered byjoanne)
Parallel lines who meet,
Side by side.
(Robert does a brief dance break,
answered by total silence. He stands
stunned as the others look at him;
after a briefpause, they continue
singing vigorously.)
Year after year, older and older,
Side by side.
Sharing a tear and lending a shoulder,
Side by side.
Two's impossible, two is gloomy,
Give another number to meSide
by side by side by side
By side by side by side
By side by side by side
By side by side
By side!
Robert brings April, a stewardess, to his
apartment. As he makes love to her, the
wives speculate about him.
Poor Baby
S A R A H
DarlingH
A R RY
Yes?
S A R A H
RobertH
A R RY
What?
S A R A H
I worryH
A R RY
Why?
S A R A H
He's all alone.
a-Iarry grunts)
There's no oneH
A R RY
Where?
S A R A H
I n his life.
H A R RY
Oh.
S A R A H
Robert ought to have a woman.
Poor baby, all alone,
Evening after evening by the tele­
phoneWe're
the only tenderness he's ever
known.
Poor baby . . .
J E N N Y
DavidD
AV I D
Yes?
J E N N Y
BobbyC
O M P A N Y · 1 8 7
D AV I D
What?
J E N N Y
I worry
D AV I D
Why?
J E N N Y
Its such a waste.
(David grunts)
There's no one.
D AV I D
Where?
J E N N Y
In his life.
D AV I D
Oh.
J E N N Y
Bobby ought to have a woman.
Poor baby, sitting there,
Staring at the walls and playing
solitaire,
Making conversation with the empty
airPoor
baby . . .
(They address Robert, who continues
making love to April)
S A R A H
Robert . . .
J E N N Y
Bobby . . .
S A R A H
Robert, angel . . .
J E N N Y
Bobby, honey . . .
S A R A H
You know no one
Wants you to be happy
More than I do,
No one,
But isn't she a little bit, well,
You know . . . ?
1 8 8 · C O M P A N Y
S A R A H J E N N Y J O A N N E
Face it. Why her?
Better, no one . . .
You know, -Goliath . . .
J E N N Y
-Wants you to be happy
More than I do.
No one, butNo
oneS
A R A H , J E N N Y
Isn't she a little bit, wellYou
know,
Face it.
S U S A N
(overlapping)
You know no one
Wants you to be happy
More than I do.
A M Y , J O A N N E
(overlapping)
You know no one
Wants you to be happy
More than I do,
No one, butA
L L W O M E N
Isn't she a little bit, well-
(Overlapping)
S A R A H
Dumb? Where is she from?
A M Y
Tacky? Neurotic? She seems so
dead . . .
S U S A N
Vulgar? Aggressive? Peculiar?
J E N N Y
Old? And cheap andJ
O A N N E
Tall? Shes tall enough to be your
motherS
A RA H
Shes very weird . . .
J E N N Y
Gross andS
U S A N
Depressing andA
M Y
And immature . . .
A L L T H E W O M E N
Poor baby,
All alone.
Throw a lonely dog a bone,
Its still a bone.
We're the only tenderness
He's ever known.
Poor baby . . .
In the morning, April gets out of bed to
put on her uniform and leave.
Barcelona
R O B E RT
Where you going?
A P R I L
Barcelona.
R O B E RT
Oh . . .
A P R I L
Don't get up.
R O B E RT
Do you have to?
A P R I L
Yes, I have to.
R O B E RT
Oh . . .
A P R I L
Don't get up.
Now you're angry.
R O B E RT
No, I'm not.
A P R I L
Yes, you are.
R O B E RT
No, I'm not.
Put your things down.
A P R I L A P R I L R O B E RT
See, you're angry. Barcelona. No.
R O B E RT
R O B E RT A P R I L
No, I'm not. Oh . . . I've got toA
P R I L
Yes, you are.
A P R I L R O B E RT
Flight Eighteen. Right.
R O B E RT
No, I'm not. R O B E RT
A P R I L
Put your vMngs down Stay a minute. -Report toAnd
stay.
A P R I L
R O B E RT
A P R I L
I would like to.
Go.
I'm leaving.
R O B E RT
A P R I L
R O B E RT That's not to
Why? So-?
Say,
A P R I L A P R I L
That if I had my way . . .
To go to- Don't be mean.
Oh well, I guess-okay.
R O B E RT
R O B E RT
Stay. Stay a minute.
R O B E RT
What?
A P R I L
I have toA
P R I L
A P R I L
No, I can't.
I'll stay.
B O T H
Fly- R O B E RT
Yes, you can.
R O B E RT
R O B E RT
But . . .
I know- A P R I L
No, I can't.
(To himself, as she gets back into bed)
B O T H
-To Barcelona. R O B E RT
Oh, God.
R O B E RT
Where you going?
Robert is in a night club withjoanne, who
Look, you're a very special girl, A P R I L
is moderately drunk. She looks around
Not just overnight. Barcelona.
witheringly at the other women in the
No, you're a very special girl, room, then proposes a toast.
And not because you're bright- R O B E RT
(Quickly)
So you said.
A P R I L The Ladies
Not just because you're bright. And Madrid. Who Luneh
You're just a very special girl, June!
A P R I L
R O B E RT
April . . .
Bon voyage. J O A N N E
Here's to the ladies who lunchR
O B E RT A P R I L Everybody laughApril
. . . On a Boeing. Lounging in their caftans and
planning a brunch
A P R I L R O B E RT On their own behalf.
Thank you. Good night.
Off to the gym,
R O B E RT A P R I L Then to a fitting,
Whatcha thinking? You're angry. Claiming they're fat,
1 9 0 C O M P A N Y
And looking grim
'Cause they've been sitting
Choosing a hat.
Does anyone stillwear a hat?
I'll drink to that.
(Drinks)
Here's to the girls who stay smartAren't
they a gas?
Rushing to their classes in optical art,
Wishing it would pass.
Another long exhausting day,
Another thousand dollars,
A matinee, a Pinter play,
Perhaps a piece of Mahler'sI'll
drink to that.
(Drinks)
And one for Mahler.
(Drinks again)
Here's to the girls who play wifeAren't
they too much?
Keeping house, but clutching a copy
of Life
Just to keep in touch.
The ones who follow the rules
And meet themselves at the schools,
Too busy to know that they're foolsAren't
they a gem?
I'll drink to them.
Let's all drink to them!
(Drinks)
And here's to the girls who just
watchAren't
they the best?
When they get depressed, it's a bottle
of Scotch,
Plus a little jest.
Another chance to disapprove,
Another brilliant zinger,
Another reason not to move,
Another vodka stinger­
Aaaaahhhhhh(A
scream which degenerates into:)
I'll drink to that.
(Drinks)
So here's to the girls on the goEverybody
tries.
Look into their eyes
And you'll see what they know:
Everybody dies.
A toast to that invincible bunch,
The dinosaurs surviving the crunchLet's
hear it for the ladies who lunch!
Everybody rise! Rise!
Rise! Rise! Rise! Rise! Rise! Rise! Rise!
The character of Joanne was not only
written for Elaine Stritch, it was based
on her, or at least on her acerbic delivery
of self-assessment, as exemplified
by a moment George Furth had shared
with her: they had entered a bar at
two in the morning and Elaine, welloiled,
had murmured to the bartender
in passing, "Just give me a bottle of
vodka and a floor plan." It was my
third attempt to write for a specific
personality playing a specific character
(cf. Gypsy and A Funny ThingHappened
on the Way to the Forum). The
song fit her perfectly, the only problem
occurring when, in all innocence,
she asked me what kind of pastry "a
piece of Mahler's" referred to-she
figured it had to be some sort of
schnecken.
Privately, I had hoped that the
number would be such a showstopper
in Elaine's hands that the audience
would actually get up on the "Rise!"
repetitions and give her a standing
ovation. It was a showstopper all right,
but not quite that big. My hope was
probably a holdover from my Hollywood
fantasies in which on opening
nights black-tied men and bejeweled
women stood up at anything-much as
they do nowadays, where standing
ovations are a foregone conclusion, it
being necessary for audiences to remind
themselves that they've had a
live experience by participating in it.
Disillusioned about what he thinks he's
learned from observing his married
friends in action, Robert sings bitterly.
Urged on by their voices, what starts as a
complaint becomes a prayer. The spoken
inte1jections are written by George Furth.
Being Alive
R O B E RT
Someone to hold you too close,
Someone to hurt you too deep,
Someone to sit in your chair,
To ruin your sleep . . .
PA U L
That's true, but there's more than
that.
S A R A H
Is that all you think there is to it?
H A R RY
You've got so many reasons for not
being with someone, but Robert,
you haven't got one good reason for
being alone.
L A R RY
Come on. You're on to something,
Bobby You're on to something.
R O B E RT
Someone to need you too much,
Someone to know you too well,
Someone to pull you up short
To put you through hell . . .
J O A N N E
You're not a kid anymore, Robert. I
don't think you'll ever be a kid
again, kiddo.
P E T E R
Hey, buddy. Don't b e afraid it won't
be perfect . . . the only thing to be
afraid of really is that it won't be!
J E N N Y
Don't stop now! Keep going!
R O B E RT
Someone you have to let in,
Someone whose feelings you spare,
Someone who, like it or not,
Will want you to share
A little a lot . . .
C O M P A N Y • 1 9 3
S U S A N
And what does all that mean?
LARRY
Robert, how do you know so much
about it when you've never been
there7
H A R RY
Its all much better living it than
looking at it, Robert.
P E T E R
Add 'em up, Bobby. Add 'em up.
R O B E RT
Someone to crowd you with love,
Someone to force you to care,
Someone to make you come through,
Who'll always be there,
As frightened as you
Of being alive,
Being alive, being alive, being alive.
AMY
Blow out your candles, Robert, and
make a wish. Want something. Want
something!
R O B E RT
Somebody hold me too close,
Somebody hurt me too deep,
Somebody sit in my chair
And ruin my sleep
And make me aware
Of being alive, being alive.
Somebody need me too much,
Somebody know me too well,
Somebody pull me up short
And put me through hell
And give me support
For being alive.
Make me alive,
Make me alive.
Make me confused,
Mock me with praise,
Let me be used,
Vary my days.
But alone is alone, not alive.
Somebody crowd me with love,
Somebody force me to care,
Somebody let me come through,
I'll always be there
As frightened as you,
Opposite: "Company"
To help us survive
Being alive, being alive,
Being alive!
"Being Alive" was not the first song intended
for Robert's climactic musical
statement, it was the third. In an earlier
version of the show, Amy reneges
on her promise to marry Paul at the
end ofAct One, and Robert proposes
to her near the end ofAct Two. In that
version Kathy, the girl most suited to
him, has just told him she's leaving
New York to get married and Robert,
in his unrecognized despair, convinces
himself that Amy is the girl for him.
Singing, he wanders through all the
rooms of his married friends, reflecting
on the knowledge of married life
he has accumulated throughout
the evening, and ends up in Amy's
kitchen, ready to propose to her. This
is what he sings as he goes:
Multitudes of Amys
(cut)
R O B E RT
Multitudes of Amys
Crowd the streets below;
Avenues of Amys,
Officefuls of Amys,
Everywhere I go.
Wonder what it meansHo-ho,
I wonder what it means:
I see them waiting for the lights,
Running for the bus,
Milling in the stores,
And hailing cabs
And disappearing through revolving
doors.
Multitudes of Amys
Everywhere I look,
Sentences of Amys,
Paragraphs of Amys
Filling every book.
Wonder if it means I've gone to
pieces.
Every other word I speak is something
she says.
Walls hang with pictures of Amys,
Galaxies ofAmys dot the night skies.
Girls pass and look at me with Amy's
eyes.
I've seen an audience of Amys
Watch a cast of Amys act in a play:
Seems there are more of her every
day.
What can it mean?
What can it mean?
I've caught a stadium of Amys
Standing up to cheer,
Choruses of Amys,
Symphonies of Amys
Ringing in my ear.
I know what it meansHey,
Amy, I know what it means!
Oh, wow!
I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready
Now!
All that it takes is two, Amy,
Me, Amy,
You, Amy . . .
I know what it meansHey,
Amy, I know what it means!
I'm ready, I'm ready, I'll say it:
Marry me now!
I'm sorry to say that this song never
got as far as rehearsal. It's one of my
favorites, but when we subsequently
decided that Amy should indeed marry
Paul at the end ofAct One and that the
Act Two scene should be cut, "Multitudes
of Amys" was clearly no longer
appropriate. I decided to write another
kind of song for Robert instead, a
hard-driving waltz, a defiant summary
of what he thinks he's learned from
the evening's experiences.
Happily Ever After
(cut)
RO B E RT
Someone to hold you too close,
Someone to hurt you too deep,
Someone to love you too hard,
Happily ever after.
C O M P A N Y · 1 9 5
Someone to need you too much,
Someone to read you too well,
Someone to bleed you of all
The things you don't want to tellThat's
happily ever after,
Ever, ever, ever after
In Hell.
Somebody always there
Sitting in the chair
Where you want to sitAlways,
always.
Somebody always there
Wanting you to share
just a little bitAlways,
always.
Then see the pretty girls
Smiling everywhere
From the ads and the TV set,
And why should you sweat?
What do you get?
One day of grateful for six of regret
With someone to hold you too close,
Someone to hurt you too deep,
Someone to bore you to death,
Happily ever after.
Someone you have to know well,
Someone you have to show how,
Someone you have to allow
The things you'd never allowThat's
happily ever after,
Ever, ever, ever after
Till now.
So quick,
Get a little car,
Take a little drive,
Make a little love,
See a little flick,
Do a little work,
Take a little walk,
Watch a little TV
1 9 6 · C O M P A N Y
And click!
Make a little love,
Do a little work,
Get a little drunk.
You've got one little trip,
Seventy years, spread it around!
Take your pick:
Buy a little here,
Spend a little there,
Smoke a little pot
For a little kick,
Waste a little time,
Make a little love,
Show a little feeling,
But why
Should you try?
Why not, sure, feel a little lonely
But fly,
Why not fly
With no one to hold you too close,
No one to hurt you too deep,
No one to love you too hard
Happily ever after?
No one you have to know well,
No one you have to show how,
No one you have to allow
The things you'd never allowThat's
happily ever after.
Ever, ever, ever after
For nowl
Ever, ever after,
Ever, ever, ever, ever after,
Ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever
after . . .
This was the song we opened with in
Boston. Its bleak message was not the
end of the show, however; it was followed
by an epilogue in Central Park,
where Robert has gone in despair instead
of showing up at his birthday
party. Here he meets a group of thirteen
entirely different people, singly
and in couples (played by the same
members of the company we've seen
all evening). Determined to take a
step forward, he finally makes a gesture
of open and needful connection
to one of them, a distracted and
lonely young woman. The scene was
cut because the show was running
much too long, and after it was gone,
"Happily Ever After" seemed too
much of a "downer," as Hal persistently
called it. He fervently urged me
to write an "up" song to replace it,
but I argued that a sudden positive
song, one without irony, would be
unearned and pandering, not to
mention monotonous, since there
would be only one thing to say:
namely, marriage is wonderful.
Michael Bennett came up with the
idea of using the same technique
of interlaced spoken voices from
Robert's friends that we had used in
"Side by Side by Side," helping him
to break through his moment of crisis.
That suggested to me a song which
could progress from complaint to
prayer. Thus, "Being Alive."
Chekhov wrote, "If you're afraid
of loneliness, don't marry." Luckily,
I didn't come across that quote till
long after Company had been produced.
Chekhov said in seven words
what it took George and me two years
and two and a half hours to say less
profoundly. If I'd read that sentence,
I'm not sure we would have dared to
write the show, and we might have
been denied the exhilarating experience
of exploring what he said for
ourselves.
"1he Little 1hings You Do Together"