(Mary
reliving her college audition the week before she went to camp)
(Is
playing melody on trombone for judges)
...
(judge stops her)
Okay,
thank you
Thank you so much
I'm trying my best,
Daddy
Trying my best
I'm up every morning at six
And
standing in line
With two hundred players
Who are just as
talented as me
Who have already tried to get in
I'm
waiting five hours in line
And watching the men
Just coming and
going
with smiles that look just like this
Till my number is
finally called
When I walk in the room
There's a table of
men
Always men - usually old
Who've been sitting like I
have
And listening all day
To two hundred horns
Playing as
fast as they can!
I am a good person
I'm an attractive
person
I am a talented person
Grant me Grace!
(Playing
piece, thinking all the while)
I
should have told them I was sick last week
They're
gonna think this is the way I play
Why
is the pianist playing so loud?
Should I play louder?
I'll play
louder
Maybe I should stop and start over
I'm gonna stop and
start over
Why is the principle staring at his crotch?
Why is
that man staring at my application?
Don't stare at my
application
I made up half of my application
Look at me
Stop
looking at that, look at me
No, not at my shoes
Don't look at
my shoes
I hate these fucking shoes
Why did I pick these
shoes?
Why did I pick this song?
Why did I pick this
career?
Why does this pianist hate me?
If I don't get a
callback
I can go to another school, but none are this
wonderful
Not that I want to spend more time looking
But this
is no guarantee
Since I'm obviously not that amazing, and perhaps
a little too loud
Well, what's it gonna be like if I make it?
More playing
Why
am I working so hard?
These are the people who accepted that
really good French horn guy
Jesus Christ, I suck, I suck, I suck,
I suck
(Finishing
the song)
Okay,
thank you
Thank you so much
I will not be the girl stuck at
home in the 'burbs
With the baby, the dog, and the garden of
herbs
I will not be the girl in the sensible shoes
Pushing
burgers and beer nuts and missing the clues
I will not be the girl
who gets asked how it feels
To be trotting along at the genius's
heels
I will not be the girl who requires a man to get by
And
I...
When I see that I'm in
I'll wear a sweeter smile...