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 Probably it stinks 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'll fix 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 humable 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 melodey 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，but we are looking for Someone with more experience 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