The Original

by Harry Skinner

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1.
Hello, I didn’t see you there! Come right on in; pull up a chair— Park your tired derriere And settle on in! You’ll be swearing somewhat later When you leave this fine the-ā-ter ‘Wasn’t that a great narrator With a story to spin!’ We’ve got a ghost! An evil king! I’ll be your host! (And I narrate fucking everything!) We’ve got two ancient noble families in a feud! There’s no cliche too trite to include! [spoken interlude] Hello, I didn’t see you there! Come right on in; pull up a chair— Park your tired derriere And settle on in! For a tale of love! And life! And love, And love—And sex, and also of Some other stuff, plus the above! Songs, sabers, and sin! We solved our grudges With all the drama critics; We bribed the judges, And ran the script through thorough analytics. We’ve got no talent, set, or script, but we’ve got nerve! It’s not the play you need—the play you deserve! Hello, I didn’t see you there! Come right on in; pull up a chair— Park your tired derriere And settle on in! Give our lovely cast a hand! See the show the critics panned! [interruption and skit] Please give our lovely cast a hand! Come see the show the critics panned! Now silence your devices Please silence your devices Fucking silence your devices and The play can begin!
2.
We're Lost 03:25
I’m lost! I’m Blackbeard’s treasure! I’m lost! Like fleeting pleasure! I’m the kingdom gone for the want of a horseshoe nail. I’m invisible ink, I’m the missing link, I’m the Holy Grail! We’re the missing score Of Gustav Mahler. We’re the plummeting price Of the Canadian dollar. We’re the options gone when the Rubicon is crossed, We looked around, and here’s what we found: We’re lost! I’m lost! On unfamiliar ground. I’m lost! And I can’t be found. We’re the sunk Atlantis, a praying mantis’s head. We’re the predilection of a cat’s affection—right after it’s been fed. We’re the snow In a strong El Niño. We’re the show Shakespeare’s lost Cardenio. We’re the Doctor’s soul when he bargains it in Fawst! [spoken] “Faust”! We looked around, and here’s what we found: We’re laust! [spoken] Lost!/So make up your mind already! We’re lost! We’re Hans and Greta. We’re lost! We’re the purloined lettuh. We’re the missing gold of a duke of old when Robin Hood stole his coffer! We’re Jimmy Hoffa! We’re the arms Of De Milo’s Venus. We’re winter’s charms; We’re [name]’s penis. We’re the plotline of a tale of love. [spoken] Hey! Too meta! We’re the Yellow Rose, we’re the Sphinx’s nose, we’re— [spoken] A white coupe Jetta? [spoken interlude over what would be the first two lines of the next verse] We’re the autumn leaves underneath the winter frost; ’Cause we looked around, and here’s what we found: We’re lost! We’re lost! We’re wasted time! We’re lost! We’re the art of rhyme! We’re locked-in keys, we’re the missing bees, and their honey. We’re— [spoken]—Wait, my money!
3.
I simply speak, in dull, plain prose But what I say, or mean, who knows? My eyes, my ears, are lovestruck, each! My mouth is on, my brain is speech-less. Your manner’s strange, your speech is crude; You seem to walk about quite nude! Your singing’s full of future fare; How I would love to travel there! I’m from a time so far ahead, When you must be three centuries dead, And yet this seems so bright and new! This age of grace, and charm, and bu~ -bonic plague! Bubonic plague! Bubonic plague! Bubonic plague! Bubonic plague! [&c.] And so we fall into romance; We fall into that blissful dance The magic lovers whisper of! Head over heels . . . in . . . Let’s wait a bit before we call it— A love like ours is blessed; It’s stronger, purer than the rest Now passion sets our hearts aglow! Or let’s catch a play and take it slow?
4.
The Future 03:10
The future is a case—The case is shut. The evidence all labeled; No if! No and! No but! The sitting jury’s verdict is clear-cut. The proposition tabled: The sentence . . . Who-knows-what. [spoken] Allow me to make a brief case of my own. The future is an undiscover’d land, Its nature patent-pending, Unknowable, un-scanned. As open as the shifting desert sand, A book without an ending, Whose plot is not yet planned! [dialogue interlude] What sort of future have I got, if not with you? I’m just a moocher with a plot of pot for two. I’m just a vassal to your fief, a thief, it’s true. Who needs a castle in the sky, when I have you? I know you’re used to lavish halls With oil portraits on the walls And caviar, and fancy balls— I think we’d bear Some simpler fare. We’ll dine on plain old rhubarb pie and I- rish stew. Who needs champagne and fine fois gras? Pour moi? Just you. It’s such a hassle with those hats, and spats; who knew? But who needs a castle in the sky, when I have you? My life was one of delivery jobs, And ‘leaky pipes,’ and plumber’s bobs And bimbos, beefcakes, freaks, and slobs— Which one am I? A real swell guy. I’ve never took to the Savoy or roy- al blue. I just want a book to read instead in bed with you! Some men want wealth, respect, and fame, to name a few. I’ll take my health and drink to thine— Good wine! To you!
5.
Be careful with that joke, ’Cause it’s an antique. I told that joke when I was so young I couldn’t speak! It’s an oldie but a goodie, A real knee-slapper. But before you tell it check the date on the wrapper.) [banter interlude] That’s the oldest joke In the oldest book, It was cracked by Saint Hilarius but the line never took! It’s a fossil— It’s a classic! It died out in the Jurassic! It’s the oldest joke in the book! [banter interlude] Be careful with that joke, ’Cause it’s an antique. It’s been around so long that now it’s starting to reek. Maybe it’s funnier when told in the original Greek— [greek joke interlude] That’s the oldest joke In the oldest book! And if you don’t believe me, then just go have a look. Try telling it and you’ll get pulled offstage by some crook. It’s the oldest joke in the book!

about

A collection of songs written for The Original, an --original-- one act musical written by Daniel Galef and directed by Nia Evans for the McGill Drama Festival at Players' Theatre in Montreal.

credits

released May 11, 2017

Emma Corber: Vocals (Track 1, 5)
Eric Lee: Vocals (Track 2, 4)
Thomas Fix: Vocals (Track 2, 3)
Caroline Portante: Vocals (Track 2, 4)
Sarah Lefebvre: Vocals (Track 2, 3)
Alex Sitaras-Grasic: Vocals (Track 5)
Zach Ripka: Piano

Music by Harry Skinner
Lyrics by Daniel Galef
Recorded and produced by Phil Tock
Album Artwork by Alissa Zilberchteine

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Harry Skinner Montreal, Québec

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