作词:Jean Louis Aubert
作曲:Stephen Sondheim
所属专辑:Sunday In The Park With George (Original Broadway Cast Recording)
歌词
The Day Off - Mandy Patinkin/Judith Moore等群星
作词:Stephen Sondheim
作曲:Stephen Sondheim
If the head was smaller
If the tail were longer
If he faced the water
If the paws were hidden
If the neck was darker
If the back was curved
More like the parasol
Bumbum bum bumbumbum
Bumbum bum
More shade
More tail
More grass
Would you like some more grass
Mmmm
Ruff Ruff
Thanks
The week has been—
Rough
When you're stuck for life on a garbage scow
Only forty feet long from stern to prow
And a crackpot in the bow—
Wow rough
The planks are rough
And the wind is rough
And the master's drunk and mean and—
Grrrruff Gruff
With the fish and scum
And planks and ballast
The nose gets numb
And the paws get callused
And with splinters in your ass
You look forward to the grass
On Sunday
The day off
Off Off Off
Off
The grass needs to be thicker
Perhaps a few weeds
And some ants If you would
I love fresh ants
Roaming around on Sunday
Poking among the roots and rocks
Nose to the ground on Sunday
Studying all the shoes and socks
Everything's worth it Sunday
The day off
Bits of pastry
Piece of chicken
Here's a handkerchief
That somebody was sick in
There's a thistle
That's a shallot
That's a dripping
From the loony with the palette
Yap Yap
Yap
Out for the day on Sunday
Off of my lady's lap at last
Yapping away on Sunday
Helps you forget the week just past—
Yep Yep
Everything's worth it Sunday
The day off
Yep
Stuck all week on a lady's lap
Nothing to do but yawn and nap
Can you blame me if I yap
Nope
There's only so much attention a dog can take
Being alone on Sunday
Rolling around in mud and dirt—
Begging a bone on Sunday
Settling for a spoiled dessert—
Everything's worth it—
Sunday—
The day off
Something fuzzy
Something furry
Something pink
That someone tore off in a hurry
What's the muddle
In the middle
That's the puddle
Where the poodle
Did the piddle
Taking the day on Sunday
Now that the dreary week is dead
Getting away on Sunday
Brightens the dreary week ahead
Everyone's on display on Sunday—
The day off
Bonnet flapping
Bustle sliding
Like a rocking horse that nobody's been riding
There's a daisy
And some clover
And that interesting fellow looking over
Nurse
GEORGE NURSE:
One day is much like any other
Listening to her snap and drone
Still Sunday with someone's dotty mother
Is better then Sunday with your own
Mothers may drone mothers may whine—
Tending to his though is perfectly fine
It pays for the nurse that is tending to mine
On Sunday—
My day off
You know Franz—
I believe that artist is drawing us
Who
Monsieur's friend
FRANZ:
Monsieur would never think to draw us
We are only people he looks down upon
Second bottle
GEORGE FRANZ:
Ah she looks for me
He is bursting to go
Near the fountain
I could let him
How to manage it—
No
I should have been an artist
I was never intended for work
Artists work Franz
I believe they work very hard
Work
We work
We serve their food
We carve their meat
We tend to their house
We polish their
Silverware
The food we serve
We also eat
For them we rush
Wash and brush
Wipe and wax—
Franz relax
While he creates
We scrape their plates
And dust their knickknacks
Hundreds to the shelf
Work is what you do for others
Liebchen
Art is what you do for yourself
Look
Where
Soldiers
Alone
What do you think
I like the one in the light hat
Mademoiselles
I and my friend
We are but soldiers
Passing the time
In between wars
For weeks at an end
Both of them are perfect
You can have the other
I don't want the other
I don't want the other either
And after a week
Spent mostly indoors
With nothing but soldiers
Ladies I and my friend
Trust we will not offend
Which we'd never intend
By suggesting we spend—
Oh spend—
—This magnificent Sunday—
Oh Sunday—
With you and your friend
The one on the right's an awful bore
He's been in a war
We may get a meal and we might get more
It's certainly fine for Sunday
It's certainly fine for Sunday
It's certainly fine for Sunday
You and me pal
We're the loonies
Did you know that
Bet you didn't know that
'Cause we tell them the truth
Who you drawing
Who the hell you think you're drawing
Me
You don't know me
Go on drawing
Since you're drawing only what you want to see
Anyway
One eye no illusion—
That you get with two:
One for what is true
One for what suits you
Draw your wrong conclusion
All you artists do
I see what is true
Taking the day on Sunday
After another week is dead
Nurse
Getting away on Sunday
Brightens the dreary week ahead
Nurse
Leaving the city pressure
Behind you
Off where the air is fresher
Where green blue
Blind you—
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