Thursday morning I leave for my Broadway weekend with Cheryl. I'm getting more excited with each passing minute. I was listening to the soundtrack to Wicked again this afternoon. (Ummm, if I had 50 cents for every time I've listened to this soundtrack, that would cover both Cheryl's and my tickets for Friday night!)
I love the lyrics to "I'm Not That Girl". But of course I wish it was "and I'm that girl". Well, in any event, I love the song. And I will be silently singing along with every word on Friday night when Cheryl and I are sitting on the 10th row in the Gershwin Theatre on West 51st Street. (Written by she who spends way too much time in the Land of What-Might-Have-Been (or Might-Be).)
Hands touch, eyes meet
Sudden silence, sudden heat
Hearts leap in a giddy whirl
He could be that boy
But I'm not that girl.
Don't dream too far
Don't lose sight of who you are
Don't remember that rush of joy
He could be that boy
I'm not that girl
Ev'ry so often we long to steal
To the land of what-might-have-been
But that doesn't soften the ache we feel
When reality sets back in
Blithe smile, lithe limb
She who's winsome, she wins him
Gold hair with gentle curl
That's the girl he chose
And heaven knows
I'm not that girl...
Don't wish, don't start
Wishing only wounds the heart
I wasn't born for the rose and pearl
There's a girl I know
He loves her so
I'm not that girl...
No comments:
Post a Comment