Note: Because of LJ's limitations on length/post, I've cut [Brian's] versions, on the assumption that he has them already.
-Phantom
===
HS&M Pinafore (play)
A Hack Night Wed 14 November 2001 La Sala de Puerto Rico
These are the songs from Hack night. ------------------------------------------------------------------------
I'm called Little Buttercup
by Katherine Bryant
I'm called Little Buttercup, Dear little Buttercup, Tell me, what did I do wrong? Oh, why is poor Buttercup, Poor little Buttercup, Stuck with this insipid song?
The words are all sappy; The meter's not snappy; The tune is annoying, to boot. My props are distracting My mind from my acting And sailors who are just too cute.
It's driving me crazy! My mind's going hazy -- I'll keep going nuts till it stops. It's so bad, I'm thinking Of coping by drinking This excellent peppermint schnapps!
So tell little Buttercup, Dear little Buttercup, Gilbert, please give a reply; Oh, tell little Buttercup, Poor little Buttercup: Why, Mr. Sullivan, why? ------------------------------------------------------------------------
He is at MIT
by David Euresti He is at MIT,
For he's always problem setting, and sleep he's never getting, Since he goes to MIT
For he could've gone to Harvard, or Princeton, Yale, or Stanford, Or Perhaps the AFA.
But inspiste of opportunities, to attend these universities He remains at MIT, He remains at MIT.
by Bridget Copley The hours creep on apace. My guilty heart is ruing -- Ah, that I might undo What Steph has got me doing -- Its folly it were easy to be showing, What I am giving up, and whither going.
On the one hand, E39, filled with linguistics lads and lasses, Big conferences in distant Santa Cruz, Rare languages, aspectual verb classes, Rich Indonesian data sets for my dissertation, And hopefully, a speedy graduation!
And on the other, A dark rehearsal room in W20 with everybody singing, Where directors yell, and clashing divas fume, and Dick Deadeye overboard they are flinging, Where moments to get work done are rarities, And dinner is bad sushi from LaVerde's!
Amid this great cacophony, Untiring and unknown, We toil for Todd and Stephanie, Till half the night has flown. No PhD can they impart, No fine commencement dress, No fortune -- save this silly part, And love of G&S!
And yet, I'm so behind, you know, That if I choose to do this show, To sing upon this set so pretty, I'll have to lie to my committee.
Oh, god of love, and god of research, say Which of you twain shall my poor heart obey?
Amid this great cacophony, Untiring and unknown, No PhD can they impart, No fine commencement dress, No fortune -- save this silly part, And love of G&S!
Oh, god of love, and god of research, say Which of you twain shall my poor heart obey? ------------------------------------------------------------------------
A British Tart
By Emily Hanna and Jacquie Felton A British tart is a sordid soul As cheap as a Mountain Dew She never can resist a cute sailor when she's pissed In fact she'll take a few
Hack Night lyrics
-Phantom
===
HS&M Pinafore (play)
A Hack Night
Wed 14 November 2001
La Sala de Puerto Rico
These are the songs from Hack night.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
I'm called Little Buttercup
by Katherine Bryant
I'm called Little Buttercup,
Dear little Buttercup,
Tell me, what did I do wrong?
Oh, why is poor Buttercup,
Poor little Buttercup,
Stuck with this insipid song?
The words are all sappy;
The meter's not snappy;
The tune is annoying, to boot.
My props are distracting
My mind from my acting
And sailors who are just too cute.
It's driving me crazy!
My mind's going hazy --
I'll keep going nuts till it stops.
It's so bad, I'm thinking
Of coping by drinking
This excellent peppermint schnapps!
So tell little Buttercup,
Dear little Buttercup,
Gilbert, please give a reply;
Oh, tell little Buttercup,
Poor little Buttercup:
Why, Mr. Sullivan, why?
------------------------------------------------------------------------
He is at MIT
by David Euresti
He is at MIT,
For he's always problem setting,
and sleep he's never getting,
Since he goes to MIT
For he could've gone to Harvard,
or Princeton, Yale, or Stanford,
Or Perhaps the AFA.
But inspiste of opportunities,
to attend these universities
He remains at MIT,
He remains at MIT.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Hours Creep on Apace
by Bridget Copley
The hours creep on apace.
My guilty heart is ruing --
Ah, that I might undo
What Steph has got me doing --
Its folly it were easy to be showing,
What I am giving up, and whither going.
On the one hand,
E39, filled with linguistics lads and lasses,
Big conferences in distant Santa Cruz,
Rare languages, aspectual verb classes,
Rich Indonesian data sets for my dissertation,
And hopefully, a speedy graduation!
And on the other,
A dark rehearsal room in W20 with everybody singing,
Where directors yell, and clashing divas fume,
and Dick Deadeye overboard they are flinging,
Where moments to get work done are rarities,
And dinner is bad sushi from LaVerde's!
Amid this great cacophony,
Untiring and unknown,
We toil for Todd and Stephanie,
Till half the night has flown.
No PhD can they impart,
No fine commencement dress,
No fortune -- save this silly part,
And love of G&S!
And yet, I'm so behind, you know,
That if I choose to do this show,
To sing upon this set so pretty,
I'll have to lie to my committee.
Oh, god of love, and god of research, say
Which of you twain shall my poor heart obey?
Amid this great cacophony,
Untiring and unknown,
No PhD can they impart,
No fine commencement dress,
No fortune -- save this silly part,
And love of G&S!
Oh, god of love, and god of research, say
Which of you twain shall my poor heart obey?
------------------------------------------------------------------------
A British Tart
By Emily Hanna and Jacquie Felton
A British tart is a sordid soul
As cheap as a Mountain Dew
She never can resist a cute sailor when she's pissed
In fact she'll take a few