(oh, you were looking for the real show?)
by Katherine Bryant
I'm called Little Buttercup, Dear little Buttercup, Tell me, what did I do wrong? Oh, why is poor Buttercup, Poor little Buttercup, Stuck with this insipid song? The words are all sappy; The meter's not snappy; The tune is annoying, to boot. My props are distracting My mind from my acting And sailors who are just too cute. It's driving me crazy! My mind's going hazy -- I'll keep going nuts till it stops. It's so bad, I'm thinking Of coping by drinking This excellent peppermint schnapps! So tell little Buttercup, Dear little Buttercup, Gilbert, please give a reply; Oh, tell little Buttercup, Poor little Buttercup: Why, Mr. Sullivan, why?
by Brian Bermack
I play the monarch of the sea The ruler of the Queen's navy Whose praise Great Britain loudly chants... When at center stage I sing I can hardly see a thing And I snap my fingers at reviewers' taunts! Though my costume is the best It could use a bit more zest But I'm happy to have gotten on the stage with pants!
by Brian Bermack
When I was a lad I was, forsooth The light board operator in the booth (1) I pulled the levers and I fixed a fuse (2) And I wore a fancy headset as I read the cues (3) .... I read out all the cues so carefully That now I play the ruler of the Queen's navy In reading cues I made such a name A computer wizard I soon became I wore clean trousers and a brand new suit (4) For my interview to get into the Institute .... That interview to enter did so well for me That now I play the ruler of the Queen's navy In 8.02 I earned such a mark I was cast in a play about a secret aardvark (5) We had weird costumes; it was quite oddball And it really didn't make a lot of sense at all .... It made no sense, so I refrained, you see From doing more with Dramashop at MIT At double-oh-one I took such a stab That they gave me a UROP in the AI Lab (6) I learned some C and I wrote some code And I wrote a timesheet so they paid me what they owed .... That silly UROP timesheet did so well for me That now I play the ruler of the Queen's navy I grew so bored that I resolved With theater again perhaps I'd get involved I looked about for audition calls And I didn't really care if I got cast at all .... I cared so little they rewarded me By making me the ruler of the Queen's navy Now students all, whoever you may be If you want to rise to the top of the tree If you find that the institute is rather cruel Be careful to be guided by this golden rule .... Don't eat at Lobdell... And never sing on key And you all may play rulers of the Queen's navy (7)
by David Euresti
He is at MIT, For he's always problem setting, And sleep he's never getting, Since he goes to MIT For he could've gone to Harvard, Or Princeton, Yale, or Stanford, Or perhaps the AFA. But in spite of opportunities, To attend these universities He remains at MIT, He remains at MIT.
by Bridget Copley
The hours creep on apace. My guilty heart is ruing -- Ah, that I might undo What Steph has got me doing! Its folly it were easy to be showing, What I am giving up, and whither going. On the one hand, E39, filled with linguistics lads and lasses, Big conferences in distant Santa Cruz, Rare languages, aspectual verb classes, Rich Indonesian data sets for my dissertation, And hopefully, a speedy graduation! And on the other, A dark rehearsal room in W20 with everybody singing, Where directors yell, and clashing divas fume, And Dick Deadeye overboard they are flinging, Where moments to get work done are rarities, And dinner is bad sushi from LaVerde's! Amid this great cacophony, Untiring and unknown, We toil for Todd and Stephanie, Till half the night has flown, Till half the night has flown. No PhD can they impart, No fine commencement dress, No fortune -- save this silly part, And love of G&S And love of G&S! And yet, I'm so behind, you know, That if I choose to do this show, To sing upon this set so pretty, I'll have to lie to my committee. Oh, god of love, and god of research, say Which of you twain shall my poor heart obey?
By Emily Hanna and Jacquie Felton
A British tart is a sordid soul As cheap as a Mountain Dew She never can resist a cute sailor when she's pissed In fact she'll take a few
Last modified: May 20, 2002G&SP | (617) 253-0190 | (email address removed)