Torch Song Trilogy

Lunch is on the table!

Arnold!

Where is that kid?

Aah!

Aah!

Ha ha ha!

Oh! Arnold, what | are you doing in...

I think my biggest problem | is being young and beautiful.

It's my biggest problem | because i've never been

Young and beautiful.

Oh, i've been beautiful, | i've been young,

But never the twain | have met.

Not so as anyone | would notice.

A shrink acquaintance of mine | believes this to be

The root of my attraction | to a class of men

Subtly described | as old and ugly.

He's underestimating | my wheedles.

See, a ugly person | who goes after a pretty person

Gets nothing but trouble,

But a pretty person | who goes after a ugly person

Gets at least cab fare.

I ain't sayin' i never | fell for a pretty face.

But when les jeux | sont faits,

Give me a toad | with a pot of gold,

I'll give you | three meals a day.

Ain't no toad | when the lights go down.

It's daylight | you got to watch out for.

A thing of beauty | is a joy till sunrise.

There's another group

You got to watch | your food stamps around.

The hopeless.

They break down | into three major categories--

Married,

Just in for the weekend,

Terminally straight.

Those affairs are the worst!

You go into them | with your eyes open,

Knowing all the limitations, | accepting them maturely.

Then wham, bam!

You're writing letters | to dear abby

And burning black candles | at midnight.

And you ask yourself, | "what happened?"

I'll tell you. | You got what you wanted.

The person who thinks | they're mature enough

To handle an affair that's | hopeless from the beginning

Is the same person that keeps | gothic romance publishers

Up to their tragic endings | in mink.

What do you think? | Gorgeous, huh?

Give me a break. | It's still under construction.

For those of youse | what ain't yet guessed,

I am an entertainer,

Or what's left of one.

I go by the name | virginia hamm.

Ain't that a kick | in the rubber parts?

You should hear some | of my former handles.

Anita mann.

Fonda boys.

Claire voyant.

Fay ways.

Bang bang la desh.

Yeah. I'm among the last | of a dying breed.

Well, once the e.R.A. | And gay civil rights bills

Have been passed,

Me and mine will be swept | under the carpets

Like the blacks done | to amos, andy, and aunt jemima.

That's all right.

With a voice | and a face like this,

I'm not worried.

I can always drive a cab.

You know, there are easier | things in life

Than being a drag queen,

But i ain't got no choice.

See, um...

Try as i may,

I just can't walk in flats.

Ha ha ha!

You know, there was | one guy once.

His name was charlie.

He was everything | you could want in an affair

And more.

Oh, he was tall.

Handsome.

Rich.

Deaf.

The deafness was the "more."

He ain't never | yelled at me.

Never complained | if i snored.

All his friends | was nice and quiet.

I even learned me some | of that deaf sign language.

Oh, i...i remember some.

"Cockroach."

Means "f***."

Oh, this here's | my favorite.

Means "i love you."

And i did, too,

But, um...

Not...

Enough.

You know, in my life,

I've slept with more men | than are named or numbered

In the bible,

Old and new testaments | put together.

And not once has someone said, | "arnold, i love you."

That i could believe.

And i ask myself, | "do you really care?"

You know, the only | honest answer

I can give myself is "yes."

I care.

I care a great deal.

But not enough.

Who writes the words | and music?

For all the girlie shows?

No one cares?

And no one knows?

Who is the handsome hero?

Some villain always frames?

Hey?

Who cares if there's | a plot or not?

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