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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