Letras
There must be some reason you can't say my lines
Listen, Sarah
Every playwright writes a play about herself
This play is about aging, and I'm not your age
I'm sorry, what age are you?
If you can't say your age, then you can't accept my play
I accept my age, I know I'm not a teenager, I know that
But in the play, Virginia has hot flushes
I don't have hot flushes
I'm not going through menopause
Oh, you know, you're very clever
If I'm good at this part, my career is changed forever
When you're convincing in a part, the audience accepts you as that
I'm looking for a way to play this where age doesn't matter
Age is depressing, age is hopeless
Not everyone is clocking the hours
How old are you?
We are not flowers
Not everyone's obsessed with time passing
How old are you?
Why aren't you answering me?
Okay, I'll admit
I'm no longer quite so fit
You get a little lost when you're young
Forget to look at your wristwatch
I, too, will admit
Of age, I do go on a bit
Ya get a little tripped up when you're young
And then make a career of it
Fun!
Makes one wonder, really makes one wonder
How different, how different are we?
Okay, let's say theoretically
Both of us are clocking the hours, but in different ways
With different powers, sure!
Both of us can watch the time passing
Counting the days for what we really want, God!
So will you admit, the heart of it you're yet to hit
Ya get a little tripped up when you're older
It's okay, it's a part of it, darling
But this, I will admit
If this is it, I'll lose my shit
Enough of all this crap about getting older
And later wondering, "What the hell, man, was that fucking it?"
Fucking show business
It makes you want to scream
In the middle of your dream
You worked so hard to build
While everybody laughed
That nasty neighborhood
With all the crooked faces
They told you, you're no good
You thought you had escaped it
You sillily thought, you had erased it
Makes one wonder, really makes one wonder
How different, how different are we?
So you try to write it right
And please them every night
And then a turn of phrase
It suddenly won't take
And you never hear the end
Of the criticizing
But it's coming from your own voice
Makes one wonder, really makes one wonder
Why we're up here, why we're even up here
And why the hell are we even doing this to ourselves
Day in, day out, without a break
I guess that both of us are in the same basket!
From the cradle to the casket
Trying to figure out this here faucet, they call art
And how to turn it on!
And when they announce
That the lights will all be dimmed
You and I will just have to go and die
And buy a round for all of them
All of them
We have lost
Through the years
Makes one wonder!