Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat Page #2

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BROTHERS:

JOSEPH:

BROTHERS:

Yours were green and second-rate And really rather small

This is not the kind of thing

We brothers like to hear

It seems to us that Joseph and his Dreams should disappear

I dreamed I saw eleven stars The sun the moon and sky Bowing down before my star,

It made me wonder why

Could it be that I was born

For higher things than you?

A post in someone's government A ministry or two

The dreams of our dear brother are The decade's biggest yawn

His talk of stars and golden sheaves Is just a load of corn

Not only is he tactless but He's also rather dim

For there's eleven of us and

There's only one of him

The dreams of course will not come true That is, we think they won't come true That is, we hope they won't come true What if he's right all along?

The dreams are more than crystal clear The writing on the wall

Means that Joseph some day soon

Will rise above us all

The accuracy of the dreams We brothers do not know

But one thing we are sure about The dream has to go!

Next day, far from home

The brothers planned the repulsive crime

Let us grab him now

Do him in, while we've got the time

This they did and made the most of it

Poor Poor Joseph

NARRATOR:
BROTHERS: NARRATOR:

5

BROTHERS:
NARRATOR:

BROTHERS:

NARRATOR & CHOIR:

BROTHERS:

NARRATOR:

JOSEPH:

NARRATOR:

NARRATOR & CHOIR:

Let us leave him here

All alone and he's bound to die

Then some Ishmaelites

A hairy crew came riding by

In a flash the brothers changed their plan

Solo:
We need cash. All: Let's sell him if we can

Poor, poor Joseph, what'cha gonna do?

Things look bad for you, hey, what'cha gonna do? Poor, poor Joseph, what'cha gonna do?

Things look bad for you, hey, what'cha gonna do?

Could you use a slave

You hairy bunch of Ishmaelites? Young, strong, well-behaved

Going cheap, and he reads and writes

In a trice the dirty deal was done Silver coins for Jacob's favorite son

Then the Ishmaelites

Galloped off with the slave in tow Off to Egypt where

Joseph was not keen to go

It wouldn't be a picnic he could tell

And I don't speak Egyptian very well

Joseph's brothers tore

His precious multi-colored coat

Having ripped it up

They next attacked a passing goat

Soon the wretched creature was no more

They dipped his coat in blood and guts and gore

Oh now brothers, how low can you stoop?

You make a sordid group, hey, how low can you stoop? Poor, poor Joseph, sold to be a slave

Situation's grave, hey, sold to be a slave

CHOIR:
Sold to be a slave, Sold to be a slave

One Angel In Heaven Lyrics

Whistle/Harmonica?

Tore his coat and flung him in a pit

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