I know what's gonna happen I'll try to go to bed With fear of failure flapping Like a fruit bat in my head
I'll sleep for half an hour The clock will ring at six I'll wake up in the shower with a stomach full of bricks So I won't have any breakfast maybe just a little tea Like when you have to go and get a colonoscopy Which incidentally isn't half as disconcerting or upsetting As going for a part you know there's no way that you're getting
But anyway I'm heading downtown for the audition Where everything I am dreading will be coming to fruition And here's what's gonna happen I'll walk in weak with hunger And there's a dozen girls Who look like me but ten years younger
I'll go into the bathroom And I'll try to vocalize And I'll be singing *vocalizes* But I'll be hearing Sandy sucks She really sucks, she really, really, really blows And she's old, and she's lame And then someone calls my name
And here's what happens I'll walk into the room The gross fluorescent lighting is inviting as a tomb And everybody smiles, they'll say its good to see ya But all I see is judges And they'll all look like Scalia
And then a little banter as they look me up and down And somewhere through the fog of insecurity and hate I'll try to convince them that I'm charming And I'm clever and I'm fun to have around
But I’m starting to unravel
In my head I hear the gavel
Guilty! They're gonna throw the book at me 'cause I'm Guilty! Of coming in and wasting all their time Guilty! Of almost every other show biz crime Not young enough! Not thin enough! Not pretty enough! Not good enough!
We hereby sentence you to a lifetime of waiting tables and debilitating self-loathing
But wait now someone's asking So can we hear your voice? I make a lame attempt at humor: Do I have a choice? I nod at the pianist, he's always wearing black He's always in a turtleneck with dandruff on his back
No sooner do I get my note and open up my trap Then inevitably some mealy-mouthed assistant director's thumbs are all over his iPhone And I know he's probably tweeting LOL This girl is crap She's a fake She's a phony She could never win a Tony
And now I'm in a place I know quite well I've left the world and I've entered hell I'm this far away from a fainting spell
But just before I die I finish the song Which I oversell Somebody says thanks And wishes me well The next thing I know I'm at Taco Bell Stuffing my face with meat
I'm trying to take it slowly I'm trying to be my best I'm trying to be more holy Less bitter and depressed Oh! I'm reading Eckhart Tolle He makes a lot of sense I bought a Buddhist bowl He says he it helps you be less tense
It doesn't do a thing for me I sit there on the floor And watch a vivid sequence of humiliating incidents from my past go by And think what kind of masochist keeps coming back for more
When she knows what's gonna happen Cuz it never doesn't happen Cuz it always, always, always
No! I know what's gonna happen Don't tell me that I don’t
And don’t say that I’ll rise to the occasion cuz I won't And don’t say I’ve got talent
And don't say I got heart And don't say that I'm clever
Cuz I know I’m pretty smart I'm smart enough to know That I'm too stupid to admit That I can't survive a diet That consists of eating ****
The trick is knowing when to pack your bags and say that’s it You know what's gonna happen I know what's gonna happen Here's what's gonna happen I quit! I quit! I quit!
So, transcription below, but I don't think the sheet music has been published yet and I would not recommend doing this one to a track or a capella, it's nuts.
If you want something similairly difficult/impressive look at "Model Behavior" from "Women on the Verge".
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I know what's gonna happen. I'll try to go to bed, With fear of failure flapping like a fruit bat in my head. I'll sleep for half an hour, The clock will ring at six, I'll wake up in the shower with a stomach full of bricks, So I won't have any breakfast maybe just a little tea, Like when you have to go and get a colonoscopy, Which incidentally isn't half as disconcerting or upsetting As going for a part you know there's no way that you are getting!
But anyway I'm heading downtown for the audition, Where everything I'm dreading will be coming to fruition, And here's what's gonna happen, I'll walk in weak with hunger, And there's a dozen girls who look like me but ten years younger. I'll go into the bathroom and I'll try to vocalize And I'll be signing "Ming-a ming-a, ming-a ming" But I'll be hearing "Sandy sucks she really sucks, she really, really, really blows" And she's old, and she's lame" and then someone calls my name
And here's what happens: I'll walk into the room The gross fluorescent lightning is inviting as a tomb And everybody smiles, they'll say its good to see ya, But all I'll see is judges and they'll all look like Scalia.
And then a little banter as they look me up and down And somewhere through the fog of insecurity and hate I'll try to convince them that I'm charming And I'm clever and I'm fun to have around But I'm starting to unravel, in my head I hear the gavel -
Guilty! They're gonna throw the book at me 'cause I'm Guilty! Of coming in and wasting all their time Guilty! Of almost every other show-biz crime Not young enough! Not thin enough! Not pretty enough! Not good enough!
[Spoken] We hereby sentence you to a lifetime of waiting tables and debilitating self-loathing.
But wait no someone's asking So can we hear your voice? I make a lame attempt at humor: Do I have a choice? I nod at the pianist, he's always wearing black He's always in a turtleneck with dandruff on his back
No sooner do I get my note and open up my trap Then inevitably some mealy-mouthed Assistant director thumbs all over his iPhone And I know he's probably tweeting LOL This girl is crap She's a fake! She's a phony! She could never win a tony!
And now I'm in a place I know quite well I've left the world and I've entered hell I'm this far away from a fainting spell, But just before I die I finish the song Which I oversell Somebody says thanks And wishes me well The next thing I know I'm at Taco Bell Stuffing my face with meat.
I'm trying to take it slowly I'm trying to be my best I'm trying to be more holy Less bitter and depressed Oh! I'm reading Ekhardt Tolle He makes a lot of sense I bought a Buddhist boul He says he it helps you be less tense
It doesn't do a thing for me I sit there on the floor I watch a vivid sequence of humiliating incidents from my past go by and think What kind of masochist keeps coming back for more Which you know is gonna happen 'Cuz it never doesn't happen 'Cuz always, always, always-
[Spoken]: No!
I know what's gonna happen Don't tell me that I don't I know I say I'll rise up to The occasion but I won't
And don't say I've got talent, And don't say I've got heart, And don't say that I'm clever 'Cuz I know I'm pretty smart I'm smart enough to know That I'm too stupid to admit That I can't survive on a diet That consists of eating **** The trick is knowing when to it's time to pack your bags and say "that's it!" You know what's gonna happen I know what's gonna happen Heres's what's gonna happen I quit! I quit! I quit!
Do you guys serious just not even bother to google the words “tootsie what’s gonna happen lyrics” because you get a ton of results. Seems easier than making a post about it
getupngo said: "Do you guys serious just not even bother to google the words “tootsie what’s gonna happen lyrics” because you get a ton of results. Seems easier than making a post about it"
The ones I found were incomplete, with a lot of “[?]” inserted. The reason I was able to transcribe it completely (and accurately, I hope) is that I heard David Yazbek sing it at a slower tempo on Studio 360.
The only other 21st century patter songs I can think of are:
Words, Words, Words - The Witches of Eastwick Cop Song - Urinetown The Speed Test - Thoroughly Modern Millie Model Behavior - Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown Poison in My Pocket - Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder
"What can you expect from a bunch of seitan worshippers?" - Reginald Tresilian