07 Couldn’t He See?
CHARLIE:
POP NEVER WONDERED HOW I FELT
PLAYING WITH THE CARDS HE DEALT.
I DREAMED OF MORE, I GOT THE BELT!
AND POP HE SAID, DON’T PULL THAT THREAD.
YOUR PATH IS SET; YOU’LL STAY ON TRACK.
A DREAM’S A DOOR YOU SHOULDN’T CRACK.
YOU WALK THROUGH THERE, YOU DON’T COME BACK!
WE’LL LOCK IT SHUT! I HEARD HIM, BUT—
COULDN’T HE SEE THE LIGHTS?
ALL OF THOSE LIGHTS THAT LIT MY WAY,
HOLDING ME CLOSE WITHIN THEIR SWAY,
LEADING TO BROADWAY?
COULDN’T HE HEAR THE CROWDS?
COULDN’T HE HEAR THEM CALL MY NAME?
OFFERING MORE THAN MEASLY FAME,
OFFERING BROADWAY!
POP SAID, “SON, STICK TO THE SHOP.
DREAMS ARE THINGS THAT ADULTS DROP.
A DREAM’S A THING YOU DRINK TO STOP!”
WELL, SORRY, POP! STAR OR FLOP—
I HAD TO SEE THE LIGHTS.
I SAW MY MOMENT RIPE TO SEIZE,
SEEING MY NAME ACROSS MARQUEES
THROUGHOUT BROADWAY!
I HAD TO BEAT THE ODDS.
I HAD TO LEARN TO TREAD THE BOARDS.
I HAD TO LEARN TO CUT THE CORDS,
TO LEAVE MY FAM’LY AND GALLOP TOWARDS
COHAN, ZIEGFELD, AND OTHER LORDS
OVER BROADWAY!
POP NEVER SPOKE ANOTHER WORD,
AT LEAST NOT ONE I EVER HEARD.
AND STILL, I TRY, THOUGH IT’S ABSURD,
WITH EV’RY CROWD, TO MAKE HIM PROUD.
BUT HE NEVER SAW THE LIGHTS.
HE WAS ALIVE, BUT DEAD, FOR YEARS.
HE THOUGHT HE THRIVED; HE BLED FOR YEARS.
HE SOLDIERED ON, WHILE I GOT CHEERS.
HE LIVED AFRAID; I FACED MY FEARS,
AND FOUND BROADWAY!
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