Last night was sloppy.

How many times have they said

That word? At least twelve.

Places! Thanks, places

Get to your places, and-- hey!

No talking backstage!

I said no talking!

You're not children, after all

Just because you're twelve

My jazz shoes have holes

I can taste the speckled stage

Right through my black socks

One microphone is 

Red, and the other is blue

I like both colors

The mic, you should know,

Feels purple, not red or blue

Purple's cool and hot

Pray for the sound booth

Pray for the understudy

Pray you're not sloppy

Imagine all them

When you come back from Broadway

To sign their playbills

Bow, and skip offstage

To a magic music world.

This is not that world

This is not that world

Because it is much better

Even when sloppy

In a wonderland

You can't gossip about who's

The worst director

We trade grins when they

Say "sloppy", because we both

Counted it twelve times

Here at this theatre

We are Broadway on Earth, and

Always talk backstage