Download “Sarah.mp3”

It’s interesting.  One of the thing that people who write for the musical theatre (and I’m one of them!) always have to justify is, “Why is this character SINGING?”  (Instead of speaking, as people normally do.)


I don’t really have much trouble -- or at least, I don’t spend a lot of time WORRYING about -- justifying that manner of delivery.  I’m well-versed enough in musical theatre that I can fairly readily determine and deliver the “sing-able” moments.


So it came as a surprise and a novelty to me that -- for THIS challenge -- I had to spend a non-negligible amount of time figuring out how to justify why my character was RAPPING, instead of singing or speaking.  In the end, though, I was quite pleased with the artistic choices I made.


I had a laundry list of things that I wanted to accomplish with this song.  I wanted it to be a rap wholly distinct from the rap I had just written for the second round.  Which meant no sweary-bits.  No angry, “street-tough” delivery.  A distinctly different accompaniment.  I wanted the use of rapping to be “justified” in the story.  (I also wanted to make sure that there WAS a story, since my second round entry utilized the form of rap that’s simply used to deliver an “in-your-face” message.)  And I kind of wanted to get my piano back into the mix -- since I hadn’t used it in either of the first two rounds of SpinTunes #3 . . .


I think I accomplished all of those things.  I particularly like the fact that the rapping is not natural to this character, and that it does not come easily to him right away.  I don’t know whether listeners will pick up on this on their own -- but the only time that this character is successful in expressing his feelings towards Sarah is when he completely divorces himself from himself.  In his two initial attempts at rap, he starts off by introducing himself.  And as long as he’s Sam, he can’t express his feelings in rap any better than he can in song or speech.  In his THIRD attempt, however, he DOESN’T introduce himself at the outset.  It’s as if he’s shed his identity and mentally stepped into someone else’s shoes -- someone who can rap; someone who can express himself.


And then -- at the end of the song, when he’s Sam again -- he’s back to being unable to express his feelings.  (And despite the tentative optimism of the song’s ultimate line?  I don’t hold out a lot of hope for this guy tomorrow, either.  Or tomorrow.  Or tomorrow . . .)




THERE SHE IS.

IN HER CHAIR.

ON THE PHONE.

SARAH...

THERE SHE IS.

SITTING THERE,

ALL ALONE.

SARAH...


YOU SHOULD GO.

ASK HER OUT.

WHILE YOU CAN.

DO IT!

DON’T SAY, “NO.”

DON’T WIMP OUT.

BE A MAN!


SCREW IT . . .


EACH DAY I COME TO WORK

AND I SEE HER SITTING THERE.

BUT I NEVER DO

WHAT I LONG TO DO.

IF I WERE SOMEONE ELSE...

IF I HAD MORE CONFIDENCE,

I COULD FIN’LLY SAY

WHAT I LONG TO SAY . . .


Hey...


My name is Sam.

I work in payroll.

I thought I’d spruce

Myself up

And introduce

Myself.

That all right?

I mean, to better “unite,”

I thought I’d chat you up

And say I think your

Sweater is tight!


Not that it’s tight!

I didn’t mean . . .

I mean, it fits all right . . .

I wasn’t . . . looking . . . at . . .

<sigh>


(Try that again . . .)


My name is Sam.

We’ve never spoken before,

But I swore

I’d introduce myself.

You seem nice.

I mean, I’ve noticed you there --

In your chair.

You make me stop and stare . . .


(That’s stupid.)


Hello there, Sarah.

How’re you doin’ today?

I just stopped by here to say

That bein’ near you

Takes my breath away.


It’s not just your looks --

Although you’ve clearly got style --

But it’s your beautiful smile.

It’s the way that you beguile

Me while

You file

And fax and answer the phone.

Little acts of kindness you’ve shown.

Ever since I’ve met you I’ve known

I’m tired of being alone.


I wanna ask you out.

I came here to invite

You out

To dinner tonight,

In the hopes

That it might

Ignite

Something more.

I find it hard to ignore

How I adore

You girl.

You gotta know

I’ve tried to do this before,


But ev’ry time that I tried,

You know my tongue was always tied.

I had to hide

All my feelings inside.

I tried

To take it in stride . . .


But they wouldn’t subside.


So here I am.


My name is ... Sam . . .


FIVE O’CLOCK.

TIME TO GO.

HERE’S YOUR CHANCE.

ASK HER!


(Come on.  Come on!  Just do it . . .)


(Crap . . .)


FIVE OH-ONE.

WATCH HER GO.

LOSE YOUR CHANCE.

MISS HER . . .


Well . . .


MAYBE TOMORROW . . .