I need your help! I'm the produce if our high school play this year looking for a song to add for them to sing at the end. The song isn't about a specific place but a special place that you share memories with. I can only find songs about specific places and would love your help!
HCSsings said: "I need your help! I'm the produce if our high school play this year looking for a song to add for them to sing at the end. The song isn't about a specific place but a special place that you share memories with. I can only find songs about specific places and would love your help!"
Somewhere from West Side Story -- 'There's a place for us, somewhere a place for us...'. Perhaps doesn't meet the specifics, but as timely as ever.
NEVERLAND - PETER PAN is kind of one of those songs for me. Even though it is named, the directions aren't exactly clear "it MIGHT be miles beyond the moon OR right there, where you stand"
"quite small and nicely crammed with hardly any space between one adventure and another"
Ooh, Mr. Todd I'm so happy I could eat you up I really could You know what I'd like to do, Mr. Todd? What I dream? If the business stays as good Where I'd really like to go In a year, or so Don't you want to know?
Yes, of course
Do you really want to know?
Yes, yes, I do, I do
Always had a dream Ever since I was skinny little slip of a thing And my rich Aunt Nettie used to take me to the seaside August bank holiday The pier... Making little castles in the sand I can still feel me toes wiggling around in the briney
By the sea, Mr. Todd, that's a life I covet By the sea, Mr. Todd, oh, I know you'd love it You and me, Mr. T, we could be alone In a house what we'd almost own Down by the sea
Anything you say
Wouldn't that be smashing?
With the sea at our gate we'll have kippered herring What have swum to us straight from the Straights of Bering Everynight in the kip, when we're through our kippers I'll be there slipping off your slippers By the sea With the fishies splashing By the sea Wouldn't that be smashing Down by the sea
Anything you say, anything you say
I can see us waking The breakers breaking The seagulls squawking Oh-ooh I'll do me baking, then I'll go walking With you, you I'll warm me bones on the esplanade Have tea and scones with me gay young blade Then I'll knit a sweater While you write a letter Unless we've got better to do
Anything you say
Think how snug it will be underneath our flannel When it's just you and me and the English channel In our cozy retreat kept all neat and tidy We'll have chums over every Friday By the sea
Don't you love the weather? By the sea We'll grow old together By the seaside By the beautiful sea
Oh, I can see us now In our bathing dresses You in a nice rich navy And me, stripes perhaps
It'll be so quiet That who'll come by it Except a seagull, oh-ooh We shouldn't try it Until it's legal for two But a seaside wedding could be devised Me rumpled bedding, legitimized Me eyelids'll flutter I'll turn into butter The moment I mutter, "I do"
By the sea, in our nest We could share our kippers With the odd-paying guests from the weekend trippers Have a nice, sunny sweet for the guests to rest in Now and then you could do the guest in
By the sea Married nice and proper By the sea Bring along your chopper To the seaside By the beautiful sea
Come on, darling Give us a kiss Ooh, that was lovely
from the musical CAMELOT; music and lyrics by Alan Jay Lerner and Frederick Loew
ARTHUR:
It's true! It's true! The crown has made it clear. The climate must be perfect all the year.
A law was made a distant moon ago here: July and August cannot be too hot. And there's a legal limit to the snow here In Camelot. The winter is forbidden till December And exits March the second on the dot. By order, summer lingers through September In Camelot. Camelot! Camelot! I know it sounds a bit bizarre, But in Camelot, Camelot That's how conditions are. The rain may never fall till after sundown. By eight, the morning fog must disappear. In short, there's simply not A more congenial spot For happily-ever-aftering than here In Camelot.
Camelot! Camelot! I know it gives a person pause, But in Camelot, Camelot Those are the legal laws. The snow may never slush upon the hillside. By nine p.m. the moonlight must appear. In short, there's simply not A more congenial spot For happily-ever-aftering than here In Camelot.
When I think of home I think of a place where there's love overflowing I wish I was home I wish I was back there with the things I been knowing
Wind that makes the tall trees bend into leaning Suddenly the snowflakes that fall have a meaning Sprinklin' the scene, makes it all clean
Maybe there's a chance for me to go back there Now that I have some direction It would sure be nice to be back home Where there's love and affection And just maybe I can convince time to slow up Giving me enough time in my life to grow up Time be my friend, let me start again
Suddenly my world has changed it's face But I still know where I'm going I have had my mind spun around in space And yet I've watched it growing
If you're list'ning God Please don't make it hard to know If we should believe in the things that we see Tell us, should we run away Should we try and stay Or would it be better just to let things be?
Living here, in this brand new world Might be a fantasy But it taught me to love So it's real, real to me
And I've learned That we must look inside our hearts To find a world full of love Like yours Like me
I had written a cabaret song back in college called “The Bathroom of the Golden Corral,” describing my passive-aggressive love for the hearty but slightly disgusting buffet chain, and how every birthday for years ended with me in agony in their deeply unsanitary bathroom, because I was a glutton for punishment and also a glutton.
Unfortunately, I lost the music for it years ago and haven’t had a reason to reconstruct it. It was sort of stylistically inspired by Amanda Palmer.
It wasn’t a good song and it wasn’t a good place, but it’s certainly a special place.
(From the musical Evening Primrose) By Stephen Sondheim Her: Let me see the world with clouds Take me to the world Out where I can push through crowds Take me to the world A world that smiles With streets instead of aisles Where I can walk for miles with you Take me to the world that’s real Show me how it’s done Teach me how to laugh, to feel Move me to the sun Just hold my hand whenever we arrive Take me to a world where I can be alive Him: The world is better here. I know I’ve seen them both. Let me see the world that smiles Him: A poet doesn’t count for much out there Take me to the world Him: We’d be cold and hungry in the winter Somewhere I can walk for miles Him: A shabby room with cracked plaster Take me to the world Him: You couldn’t get a job With all around things growing in the ground Him: We’d end up hating each other. We’d have fights. You’d cry. Where birds that make a sound are birds Let me see the world that’s real Him: I have seen the world Show me how it’s done Him: And it’s mean and ugly Teach me how to laugh, to feel Him: We could laugh together Move me to the sun Him: Stay here with me Just hold my hand whenever we arrive Him: Stay here. I love you. But we’re happy here Let it be a world with you Him: Stay with me Any other world with you Take me to a world where I can be alive Him: Do you want the world ? Well then, you shall have the world Ask me for the world again You shall have the world A world of skies That’s bursting with surprise To open up your eyes for joy We shall see the world come true We shall have the world I won’t be afraid with you We shall have the world You’ll hold my hand and know you’re not alone You shall have the world to keep Such a lovely world you’ll weep We shall have the world forever for our own
Come From Away the Musical - Welcome to the Rock by Irene Sankoff and David Hein
On the northeast tip of North America, on an island called Newfoundland, there's an airport. It used to be one of the biggest airports in the world, and next to it is a town called Gander. Welcome to the rock if you come from away, You'll probably understand about half of what we say. They say no man's an island but an island makes a man, Especially when one comes from one like Newfoundland. Welcome to the Rock That mornin' I'm in the classroom, It's our first day back and school buses are on strike so I'm coverin' for Annette who's running late. Sorry Beulah, how's the kids? Not exactly thrilled to be inside on such a gorgeous day, so, I told them we'd only half day this mornin', and they were quite pleased, until I told them we'd have the other half in the afternoon! Welcome to the wildest weather that you've ever heard of. Where every one is nicer but it's never nice above. Welcome to the farthest place you'll get from Disneyland. Fish and chips and shipwrecks, this is Newfoundland. Welcome to the rock, an islander, I am an islander. I'm an islander, I am an Islander. I'm an islander, I am an islander. I'm an islander, I am an islander. That mornin' I'm in car. The kid's cross Airport Blvd. to get to school, and that time of day people are in a little bit of a rush to get to work and stuff, so normally I sit there and run my radar. And if they're speedin', I'll stop them and write out a warning ticket. I'll write S.T.F.D. Slow the **** down! Welcome to the land where the winters try to kill us and we say, "we will not be killed." Welcome to the land where the waters try to drown us and we said, "we will not be drowned." Welcome to the land where we lost our loved ones and we said, "we will still go on" Welcome to the land where winds try to blow, and we said "No!" That morning I drop my kids off at school and head to the SPCA where I'm greeted by my "other kids" all barking and meowing for breakfast and a belly rub. Not that I'm complaining, I love them. But by the time feeding is done I gotta get back up to pick up my human kids, so I take just one second for myself and I'm sitting in my car. I'm in the library. I'm in the staff room. And I turned on the radio. You are here, at the start of a moment, on the edge of the world. Where the river meets the sea. Here, at the edge of the Atlantic, on an island in between there and here. I'm noting my radar when Bonnie comes by. She pulls up and she is waving at me like mad, so I rolled down my window and she says: "Oz, turn on the radio." "Slow it down Bonn-" "Jesus H Oz, turn on your radio." Where our stories start: It's my first day at the station. When(?) in the night I'm getting coffee for the picket line. Where we know by heart. It's five minutes till my smoke break. Every single flight. I'm off to work at the airport. Welcome to the fog, welcome to the trees, to the ocean and the sky, and whatever's in between. To the one's who left, you are never truly gone. Our candle's in the window and our candle's always on. When the sun is coming, and the world has come ashore. If you're hoping for a harbor than you'll find an open door. In the winter, from the water, through whatever's in the way, to the ones who have come from away, Welcome to the rock!
most of these are about aspirational destinations rather than missed ones:
As far as missed ones: Where or When? I'll Be Seeing You The Last Time I Saw Paris No Place Like London
Don't Fence Me In Why do the Wrong People Travel Travel Travel? (Sail Away) Somewhere Wouldn't It be Loverly Where is the Tribe for Me? (Bajour) Somewhere Over the Rainbow My Own Morning (Hallelujah Baby)