Broadway Star

I thought I’d have a short break from Thompson and let you have a look at something else that I’m working on. For a long while I’ve been penning lyrics for a musical idea that has been festering away in my warped mind. I’ve called the show ‘Rockymodo’. It’s a take on the Hunchback of Notre Dame but it’s as far removed from the actual story as the Kardashian brood are from reality. I’ve finally found someone to work on the music with me, so probably only another five years before first night… The premise of this song is that a Broadway agent hears Quasimodo ringing the cathedral bells and offers to make him a big star on Broadway… I know the tune, but you’ll have to make your own tune up.

Broadway Star

Agent:  (Coda)  It’s everybody’s dream to star on Broadway

                        It’s everybody’s dream to be a star

                        Some of us were born with looks and talent

                        But fate stopped you from getting quite that far…..

  (Speed up)     You’ve got the kind of face that could launch a thousand ships

Chorus:            And I bet it did

Agent:              You’ve got the kind of figure that looks like you eat chips

Chorus:            And I bet you did

Agent:              You’ve got spots and boils from your hours of toil

                        cramming your face with cake

                        You’ve got the lion’s share of facial hair

                        And the IQ of a garden rake

                        But you’ve got what it takes to be a star

Chorus:            On Broadway

Agent:              Stick with me and baby you’ll go far

Agent:              When they handed out brains, you thought they said trains

                        And got yourself an Airfix kit

                        And you don’t look your best in your dad’s old vest

                        And your armpits smell a bit

But you’ve got what it takes to be a star

Chorus:            On Broadway

Agent:              Stick with me and baby you’ll go far

Agent:              I realise that you might make a bungle

                        Until recently you were swinging through the jungle

                        There are callouses on your hands

                        Where your knuckles scrape the floor

                        And your sticky out teeth

                        Belie belief

                        Your name should be Egor

Chorus:            You’re so thick, you never heard of Keats or Milton    La, La, La

                        Your Varicose legs look like towers of Stilton    La, La, La     

                        Your style of hair looks like tufted Wilton    La, La, La          

                        Your beauty spot looks like it has been built on   La, La, La

Agent:              If you kept a cat, they would burn you as a witch

Chorus:            And you know they would

Agent:              As a side-show freak, you would make your owner rich

Chorus:            And you know you would

Agent:              You need a dozen shaves on a daily base to remove superfluous hair

                        And next to you, an Elephant’s arse would look like Fred Astaire

But you’ve got what it takes to be a star

Chorus:            On Broadway

Agent:              Stick with me and baby you’ll go far

Chorus:            On Broadway

Agent:              And though Anthropologists think

  that you’re the missing link

  You’ve got everything that it takes to be a star

All:                   A Star

                        A Star

                        A star

                        A Star

Chorus dance off leaving Agent & Rocky on stage

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