ENSEMBLE (whispered, overlapping): Storm is coming… Cracks are showing… Voices rising… Rivers growing… Verse 1 – CONGRESSMEN (Washington, D.C.) NORTHERN REP: We debate until we’re hoarse, but still the chains remain— SOUTHERN REP: We will not be lectured by your factories and your trains— NORTHERN REP: Every vote becomes a circus, every bill a battlefield— SOUTHERN REP: Touch our “rights” and you will see just how fast this Union yields! FULL CHAMBER: In these halls of painted honor, honor’s what we pawn away— trading truths for petty power as the country starts to fray. Verse 2 – STREET & PRESS (Reporters, citizens) REPORTER 1: “Violence in the House again!” REPORTER 2: “Senators near blows!” REPORTER 3: “Talk of secession in the South!” NEWSBOY: “Nobody really knows!” CITIZEN (NORTH): My boy just turned seventeen, they say war might soon begin— CITIZEN (SOUTH): My crops depend on cotton, and my cotton’s wrapped in sin. ENSEMBLE (town voices): We hear thunder in the headlines, we feel shaking in the floor— and the men we send to fix it only tear it more and more. Refrain – LOW ENSEMBLE CHANT LOW ENSEMBLE (men): The storm is coming, the sky is torn. A house divided won’t outlast the storm. WOMEN (high, haunting): Mmm… mmm… Storm is coming… storm is coming… Verse 3 – SOUTHERN CHORUS SOUTHERN ENSEMBLE: We will not be ruled by your sanctimonious North— with your pamphlets and your speeches and your “moral” marching forth. We were born to guard tradition, we were raised on cotton’s throne— And we’ll burn this Constitution ’fore we bow to you alone! Verse 4 – NORTHERN CHORUS NORTHERN ENSEMBLE: We are tired of compromise with blood soaked in the soil— tired of patching rotten beams while the same chains do their coil. Call it “rights” or call it “freedom,” dress it up in legal clothes— it’s a woman sold at auction, it’s a man beneath your blows. Second Refrain – FULL COMPANY FULL ENSEMBLE: The storm is coming, we feel the air— The sky grows heavy with a nation’s prayer. The storm is coming, the clouds are war— We see the lightning in the Senate floor. Bridge – LINCOLN (from the gallery / off to one side, watching) LINCOLN (quiet, unsettled): I listen from the shadows as they argue, curse, and preen— Men with polished boots and tempers tearing seams they cannot see. Every word a spark in tinder, every slight a loaded gun— And I feel the future cracking like an ice floe in the sun. I don’t know what part I’m playing, I don’t know what call I’ll hear— But I smell the smoke of something drawing terribly, terribly near. Verse 5 – BORDER VOICES (caught in the middle) BORDER CITIZEN 1: I’ve a brother in Virginia— BORDER CITIZEN 2: And a cousin in Vermont— BORDER CITIZEN 3: If the country splits between them, tell me which side do I want? BORDER ENSEMBLE: We are living on the fault lines, on the lines they draw in ink— It’s our farms and sons and daughters dangling on their “right to think.” Parliament / Chamber Swell SOUTHERN REP: Then let us make it clear at last— If you threaten what we claim— NORTHERN REP: Then we’ll answer with resistance in the Union’s sacred name— ANOTHER REP: We are running out of bargains! ANOTHER: We are running out of time! ALL: We are building up a future that will answer for this crime! Final Chorus – FULL COMPANY, BIG, LES MIS STYLE FULL ENSEMBLE: The storm is coming! Hear the distant drums! Each cheap compromise only louder it becomes! The storm is coming! There’s blood upon the breeze! We are praying for a captain on these dark and shaking seas! The storm is coming! The sky’s gone black! Once the first shot’s fired there is no turning back! LOW ENSEMBLE (under, mantra): Storm is coming… storm is coming… HIGH ENSEMBLE: Can the Union stand this thunder? Can the beams bear one more blow? LINCOLN (last, quiet line under the ringing chords): If the storm is truly coming… then God help the ones who know.
