Stephen Sondheim - Opening Doors Lyrics

2010 Broadway
Sondheim on Sondheim the Musical - Opening Doors Lyrics


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 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.
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 the 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 you can bum-bum-bum-di-dum —
Give me a melody!

Why can't you throw 'em a crumb?
What's wrong with letting 'em tap their toes a bit?
I'll let you know when Stravinsky has a hit —
Give me some melody!

Oh sure, I know,
It's not that kind of show.
But can't you have a score
That's sort of in between?
Look, play a little more,
I'll show you what I mean …

"Who wants to live in New York?
I 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 hummmmmmmmmmmmmable 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 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 the 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.

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 someone cancelled a booking.
The songs aren't finsihed —
And what about costumes?
And how do I learn all these numbers?
I'll bring you the copies of everything later this evening.

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
Not to mention I still haven't finished the
Synanon song or the Kennedy number

You don't have to, we'll segue the
End of it into the dance we cut out
And what'll we do about getting publicity,
Run around town putting stickers on windows?

And have we decided or not on the restaurant sketch?
I need two or three days to replace it
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!

 

Other Songs: Sondheim on Sondheim the Musical Songs Lyrics
Opening Doors lyrics by Stephen Sondheim