This is yet another reason why I love Cake. There's almost nothing that pleases me more than witty discourse, especially about my profession. So if you don't already know this song, here are the words that bring a smile to my face.
I'm in New York for a few days visiting my friend Sherri. Today is her birthday so we're going to the movies and down to the South Street Seaport to drink Apricot Ale at a brewpub and enjoy being old enough to afford both. I'm not a New York person by nature. I like to visit, but it's not a city that feeds my blood and makes my heart leap. There are some for whom New York is the answer to all of the longing in their belly, but for me, it's just a nice place to vacation for a little while. The subway is too loud and too smelly, the buildings are too tall, the lights too bright. But I will say this - at 11pm when you've been drinking champagne for three hours, with a nice little quantity of vanilla cognac in hand, standing on the rooftop of an apartment building and looking out at the moon and the Empire State building and the Chrysler Building, you understand why people sell their furniture and leave their nice low-rent apartment in the Midwest for this city. Last week I watched Manhattan, an early Woody Allen movie. There's a whole bit at the beginning about this man who has too much romance in his soul for New York, and while I'm always happy to go back to Boston, there's a little more romance in my soul for New York than there was before.
Have a good laugh at the lyrics to the opera singer song. I'm going to go throw my cape.
I am an opera singer
I stand on painted tape
It tells me where I'm going
And where to throw my cape
I call my costars brother
I call my costars knave
I play both good and evil parts
I sing to Verdi's grave
And every single morning
By 10 AM I'm dressed
My rehearsals last for hours and hours
With diligence I have been blessed
Some people, they call me monster
Some people, they call me saint
My talent feeds my darker side
Yet no one will complain
I am an opera singer
I sing in foreign lands
I've sung for kings in Europe
And emperors in Japan
And after each performance
People stand around and wait
Just to tell me that they love my voice
Just to tell me that I'm great
I am an opera singer
I will sing when you're all dead
I sing the mountains crumbling apart
I sing what can't be said
I am an opera singer
I sing in foreign lands
Most people seem to know my name
Or at least know who I am
