GENDER SONGS...

He’s the Man.

He’s the man. He’s the man. I don’t take no crap from anybody else but you. I wear the pants around here, when I’m finished with your laundry. Cause I’m a guy you don’t want to fight. When I say jump you say yeah right. I’m the man of this house until you get home.

He’s the man. He’s the man. What I say goes around here, right out the window. I don’t want to hear a lot of whining, so I’ll shut up. The sooner you learn whose boss around here, the sooner you can give me my orders dear. Cause I’m head honcho around here, but it’s all in my head.

He’s the man. He’s the man. I can have sex anytime, you want. Cause I’m a man who has needs, but they’re not that important. And don’t expect any flowers from me, cause if I’m not mistaken you prefer to read. I’m the king of my castle when your not around.

He’s the man. He’s the man. And I’ll drink and watch sports whenever I want, to get in trouble. And I’ll come home when I am good and ready, to sleep on the couch. Cause a man’s got to do, what a man’s got to do, and I’m gonna do what you tell me to. Cause I’m top dog around here, but I’ve been neutered.

He’s the man. He’s the man. You’d the man!

The End

“I’VE NEVER BEEN TO ME” BY CHARLENE

Hey lady, you lady cursing at your life. You’re a discontented mother and a regimented wife. I’ve no doubt you dream about the things you’ll never do but, I wish someone had talked to me like I wanna talk to you...

Oh I’ve been to Georgia and California and anywhere I could run. I took the hand of a preacher man and we made love in the sun. But I ran out of places and friendly faces because I had to be free. I’ve been to paradise but I’ve never been to me..

Please lady, please lady don’t just walk away, ‘cause I have this need to tell you why I’m all alone today. I can see so much of me still living in your eyes, won’t you share a part of a weary heart that has lived a million lies...

Oh I’ve been to Niece and the Isle of Greece while I’ve sipped champagne on a yacht. I’ve moved like Harlow in Monte Carlo and showed ‘em what I’ve got. I’ve been undressed by kings and I’ve seen some things that a woman ain’t supposed to see... I’ve been to paradise, but I’ve never been to me...

Hey, you know what paradise is? It’s a lie. A fantasy we create about people and places as we’d like them to be. But you know what truth is? It’s that little baby you’re holding, it’s that man you fought with this morning, the same one you’re going to make love with tonight, that’s truth, that’s love...

Sometimes I’ve been to crying for unborn children that might have made me complete but I...I took the sweet life, I never knew I’d be bitter from the sweet. I’ve spent my life exploring the subtle whoring that costs too much to be free-- Hey lady- I’ve been to paradise... But I’ve never been to me...

The End

Just a Housewife from the Musical “Working”

All I am is just a housewife. Nothing special, nothing great. What I do is kinda boring. If you’d rather, it can wait. All I am is someone’s mother All I am is someone’s wife. All of which seems unimportant. All it is-- is just my life.

Do the laundry, wash the dishes. Take the dog out, clean the house. Shop for groceries, look for specials. Gosh it sounds so Mickey mouse.

Drop the kids off, pick the shirts up. Try to lose weight, try again. Keep the troops fed, pick their things up. Lose your patience, count to ten. Two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine…

All I am is just a house wife. Just a housewife, nothing great. What I do is out of fashion. What I feel is out of date. All I am is someone’s mother. Right away I’m ‘ not too bright’. What I do is ‘unfulfilling.’ So the TV talk show tell me every night.

I don’t mean to complain and all, but they make you feel like you’re two feet tall when you’re just a wife. Nowadays all the magazines make a bunch of beans out of family life. You’re a whiz if you go to work, but you’re just a jerk if you say you won’t. Women’s Lib says, ‘they think it’s fine, if the choice is mine’, but you know they don’t.

What I do; what I choose to do may be dumb to you, but it’s not to me. Is it dumb that they need me there? Is it dumb to care: ‘Cause I do, you see.

And I mean, did you ever think; really stop and think what a job it was-- doing all the things that a housewife does?

I’m afraid it is unimpressive. All I am is someone’s mother. Nothing special. What I do is unexciting, kinda dull. Take the kids here, take the kids there.

I don’t mean to complain and all. All I am is, busy, busy. All I am is, like my mother. All I am is… just a housewife.

The End

Someone Else’s Story ( from the musical Chess)

Long ago in someone else’s lifetime-- someone with my name who looked a lot like me, came to know a man and made a promise. He only had to say-- and that’s where she would be… Lately although the feelings run just as deep- the promise she made has grown impossible to keep… and yet, I wish it wasn’t so will he miss me if I go?

In a way, it’s someone else’s story. I don’t see myself as taking part at all. Yesterday, a girl that I was fond of-- finally could see the writing on the wall. Sadly she realized she’d left him behind and sadder than that- she knew he wouldn’t even mind and though, there’s nothing left to say, would he listen if I stay?

It’s all very well to say, ‘you fool it’s now or never’, I could be choosing- no choices whatsoever. I could be in someone else’s story, in someone else’s life and he could be in mine. I don’t see a reason to be lonely, I should take my chances further down the line…

And if that girl I knew should ask my advice– Oh I wouldn’t hesitate she needn’t ask me twice: Go now! I’d tell her that for free. Trouble is, the girl is me. The story is, the girl is me.

WILL HE EVER COME? A SONG BY MICHAEL McLEAN

When a heart is aching there is no true disguise. I knew she had been crying though no tears were in her eyes. Dreams she had of romance might as well be dead. Fear of never knowing love was spoken as she said :

“Will he ever come? Will he ever appear? Will the one that I’ve been waiting for discover I am here? Will he take my hand? Will he carry me away? In these lonely times this heart of mine can’t wait another day.”

Another lonely lady, tired of waiting patiently for the man who left her in the spring of fifty-three. Now she’s nearly ninety, and she must have constant care. Though her voice is silent, still the questions linger there:

“Will he ever come? Will he ever appear? Will the one that I’ve been waiting for discover I am here? Will he take my hand? Will he carry me away? In these lonely times this heart of mine can’t wait another day.”

If you’ve read the papers or turned on the evening news, you can see so clearly why the world has got the blues. Tell me how much longer will the madness go on? I believe I hear voices joining in to sing this song:

“Will he ever come? Will he ever appear? Will the one that I’ve been waiting for discover I am here? Will he take my hand? Will he carry me away? In these lonely times this heart of mine can’t wait another day.”

Well, the young one found prince charming, and she knew her prayer was heard. And the old one’s celebrating ‘cause her husband kept his word. And to those of us still waiting for the healer of all wounds- it’s not hopeless, it’s just Friday and Sunday’s coming soon!

Yes, the Lord will come! He is going to appear. The one that we’ve been waiting for knows that we are here. He will take our hands. He will carry us away. In these final hours these hearts of ours must hang on ‘till that day.

The End