RADIO APOCALYPSE # **TELL IT. SING IT. CHANGE IT. HEAL IT.** *[soft claves — street sounds — one trumpet]* **ILDA — GREEN** Tell it. Tell the story at the table. Tell it leaning from the window. Tell it over black café. Tell the story of the leaving, Tell the story of the staying, Tell the joke that crossed the ocean And came laughing home someday. **Tell it, Cuba. Tell it true. Every voice becomes a doorway Someone else can travel through.** *[piano montuno enters]* **SUMARI — BLUE** Sing it. When the words become too little, Put a rhythm underneath them, Give the sorrow dancing shoes. Paint the wall. Beat the conga. Blow the trumpet through the midnight. Take whatever life has handed you— **And make something new.** ### **CHORUS** **TELL IT! SING IT! CHANGE IT! HEAL IT!** Green to blue, yellow to indigo— **Cuba, Cuba, let the whole world know.** Tell it! Sing it! Change it! Heal it! **Mi corazón— we're still here. Aquí estamos— we're still here.** *[brass erupts — rhythm becomes harder]* **VOLD — YELLOW** Change it. Not because somebody ordered you. Not because somebody saved you. Change it because the old arrangement doesn't fit anymore. Move the chair. Open the window. Question the answer. Turn the table. Revolution begins long before anybody raises a flag. Sometimes revolution is simply: **NO.** Sometimes revolution is: **NOW.** Sometimes revolution is one human being saying: **I choose again.** ### **CHORUS** **TELL IT! SING IT! CHANGE IT! HEAL IT!** Green to blue, yellow to indigo— **Cuba, Cuba, let the whole world know.** *[everything suddenly drops away — heartbeat drum]* **TUMOLD — INDIGO** Heal it. Not erase it. Not pretend it didn't happen. Not return to yesterday. Heal it by allowing another configuration. For the ones who stayed. For the ones who left. For the ones who remember Cuba from a photograph. For the ones who remember the smell of the kitchen. For the ones who will inherit an island they haven't imagined yet. *[quiet female voice]* **Indigo doesn't say, “Go backward.”** Indigo says, **“Become.”** *[congas slowly return]* ### **FINAL CHORUS** **GREEN — TELL IT!** **BLUE — SING IT!** **YELLOW — CHANGE IT!** **INDIGO — HEAL IT!** **ILDA! SUMARI! VOLD! TUMOLD!** Four currents, one sea. Four colors, one possibility. **CUBA, CUBA—MI CORAZÓN!** Tell your story. Sing your song. Change what no longer belongs. And when the long night finally meets the morning— **don't become what you were.** **Become what you choose.** *[one trumpet calls across the water]* **Tell it. Sing it. Change it. Heal it.** **Cuba.** *¡Aquí estamos!*
