Patti LuPone, Bob Gunton - Dice Are Rolling lyrics
[Patti LuPone, Bob Gunton - Dice Are Rolling lyrics]
Dice are rolling, the knives are out
I see every bad sign in the book
And as far as they can overweight to a man
They have that lean and hungry look
But we still have the
Magic we've always had!
The descamisados still worship me
We arrived thanks to them and no one else
No thanks to your generals a
Clutch of stuffed cuckoos!
It's not a question of a big parade
Proving we're big with the
Mobs on the street
You're wrong the people, my people
The people belong to no one!
They are fickle, can be manipulated!
They don't matter however much
They love you now
It matters more that as far as
My stuffed cuckoos are concerned
You don't politically exist!
So I don't exist! So I count for nothing!
Try saying that on the street
When all over the world i am Argentina!
Most of your generals
Wouldn't be recognized by their own mothers!
But they'll admit I exist
When I become vice-president!
That won't work
We've been through all of this before
They'd fight you tooth and nail
You'd never overcome them with
A hundred rallies and even if you did
Yes?
Your little body's slowly breaking down
You're losing speed, you're losing strength
Not style, that goes on flourishing forever
But your eyes, your smile
Do not have the sparkle
Of their fantastic past
If you climb one more mountain
It could be your last
I'm not that ill
Bad moments come but they go
Some days are fine, some a little bit harder
But that doesn't mean
I should change my routine
Have you ever seen me defeated?
Don't you forget what I've
Been through and yet i'm still standing
And if I am ill that could
Even be to your advantage!
Advantage? (sung)
I'm trying to point out that you are dying!
This talk of death is chilling (spoken)
Of course you're not going to die!
Then I must now be vice-president!
And I shall have my people come to choose
Two Peróns to wear their country's crowns
In thousands in my squares and avenues
Emptying their villages and towns
Where every soul in home or shack or stall
Knows me as Argentina that is all
Oh, I shall be a great vice-president!
So what happens now? So what happens now?
Where am I going to?
Don't ask anymore
I see every bad sign in the book
And as far as they can overweight to a man
They have that lean and hungry look
But we still have the
Magic we've always had!
The descamisados still worship me
We arrived thanks to them and no one else
No thanks to your generals a
Clutch of stuffed cuckoos!
It's not a question of a big parade
Proving we're big with the
Mobs on the street
You're wrong the people, my people
The people belong to no one!
They are fickle, can be manipulated!
They don't matter however much
They love you now
It matters more that as far as
My stuffed cuckoos are concerned
You don't politically exist!
So I don't exist! So I count for nothing!
Try saying that on the street
When all over the world i am Argentina!
Most of your generals
Wouldn't be recognized by their own mothers!
But they'll admit I exist
When I become vice-president!
That won't work
We've been through all of this before
They'd fight you tooth and nail
You'd never overcome them with
A hundred rallies and even if you did
Yes?
Your little body's slowly breaking down
You're losing speed, you're losing strength
Not style, that goes on flourishing forever
But your eyes, your smile
Do not have the sparkle
Of their fantastic past
If you climb one more mountain
It could be your last
I'm not that ill
Bad moments come but they go
Some days are fine, some a little bit harder
But that doesn't mean
I should change my routine
Have you ever seen me defeated?
Don't you forget what I've
Been through and yet i'm still standing
And if I am ill that could
Even be to your advantage!
Advantage? (sung)
I'm trying to point out that you are dying!
This talk of death is chilling (spoken)
Of course you're not going to die!
Then I must now be vice-president!
And I shall have my people come to choose
Two Peróns to wear their country's crowns
In thousands in my squares and avenues
Emptying their villages and towns
Where every soul in home or shack or stall
Knows me as Argentina that is all
Oh, I shall be a great vice-president!
So what happens now? So what happens now?
Where am I going to?
Don't ask anymore