The Last Five Years Page #5

A dress to fire the mad desire

Of girls from here to Minsk

But I have no more hours left to sew"

Then the clock upon the wall

began to glow

And the clock said

"Na na na na, na na na

Oh, Schmuel you'll get to be happy

Na na na na, na na na

I give you unlimited time"

- It's a magical clock.

- I've never been more attracted to you.

"So Schmuel

Go sew and be happy"

But Schmuel said

"No, no, it's not my lot

I've gotta make do

with the time I've got

Oh, look at the time. It's time to go.

Here we go.

Why do all my things

have to come into this?

Schmuel was done at half-past ten

And he said "Good night, old Klimovich"

Put on his coat to go

But then

The clock cried

"Wait! Not yet"

Pretty good, right?

"Even though you're not wise or rich

You're the finest man in Klimovich

Listen up, Schmuel

Make one stitch

And you'll see what you get"

But Schmuel said

"Clock, it's much too late

I'm at peace with life I accept my fate"

But the clock said "Schmuel!

One stitch and you will

Unlock the dreams you've lost"

So Schmuel, with reluctance,

took his thread

He pulled a bolt of velvet and he said

"I should take out my teeth

and go to bed

I'm sitting here with talking clocks

Instead"

And the clock said

"Na na na na, na na na

Oh, Schmuel you'll get to be happy"

And then they dance.

Na na na na, na na na

No. No, thank you.

Come on!

Na na na na, na na na

"Just do it and you can be happy"

So Schmuel put the thread

through the needle's eye

And the moon stared down

from a starless sky

And he pushed the thread

through the velvet black

And he looked, and the clock

was turning back

So he grabbed his shears

and he cut some lace

As the hands reversed

on the old clock's face

And his fingers flew

and the fabric swirled

It was 9:
15 all around the world

Every cut and stitch was a perfect fit

As if God Himself were controlling it

And Schmuel cried

through a rush of tears

"Take me back

Take me back all 41 years"

And on it went

Down that silent street

Till Schmuel's dress

Was at last complete

And he stretched his arms

And he closed his eyes

And the morning sun

Finally started

To rise

And the dress he made

on that endless night

Was a dress that would make

any soul take flight

Not a swatch, not a skein

had gone to waste

Every ribbon and button ideally placed

And sewn into the seams

Were 41 seasons of dreams

Dreams that you could feel

Coming real

Come on.

And that very dress so the papers swore

Was the dress a girl in Odessa wore

On the day she promised forevermore

To love a young man named Schmuel

Who only one day before

Had knocked at her kitchen door

Thank you.

That was pretty long, but it was fun.

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