“Dear kindly Sergeant Krupke, You gotta understand, It’s just our bringin’ upke That gets us out of hand. Our mothers all are junkies, Our fathers all are drunks, Golly Moses, Natcherly we’re punks! Stephen Sondheim
“Here’s to the ladies who lunch— Everybody laugh— Lounging in their caftans and planning a brunch On their own behalf. Stephen Sondheim
“Every day a little death, In the parlor, in the bed, In the curtains, in the silver, In the buttons, in the bread. Every day a little sting, In the heart and in the head. Stephen Sondheim