The Worms Throw a Party (Tap Dance Party Mix)

Musical Theatre, Broadway, Contemporary Broadway, classical, vocal duet, orchestral pop

[Intro - Piano]
[Quirky Eastern European jazz]
(piano bouncy, vinyl crackle)
[Verse 1]
[Conversational, intimate]
The worms throw a party underneath the thaw
They're eating what I buried all along
The robin's back but she's a resurrectionist
Digging up the dead to feed her young
(mm-mm)
Spring's a grave robber
Exhuming everything
Call it "renewal"
If it makes you feel less queasy about the teeth
[Pre-Chorus]
[Building, playful]
Bloom-vomit, dirt-birth
Corpse-garden, green-burst
[Chorus]
[Uptempo jazz, belt but quirky]
And they call this beautiful
All this eating of the dead (eating dead)
Spring's just winter's leftovers
Reheated and resold and fed
To baby birds who don't know better
Than to open wide and trust (open wide)
That mama's bringing breakfast
Not somebody's recent dust
(somebody's dust)
[Interlude - Piano]
[Eastern European runs, playful]
(piano takes solo, ascending quirky melody)
[Verse 2]
[More intense, dark humor]
The daffodils are cannibals
They ate my grandmother's hands
She planted bulbs in '82
Now they're wearing her wedding bands
(oh)
The tulips staged a coup
Overthrew the sleeping monarch
Call it "spring awakening"
But it's really a hostile takeover with pollen
[Pre-Chorus]
[Building tribal drums]
Bloom-vomit, dirt-birth
Corpse-garden, green-burst
Mud-mother, bone-feast
Death-party, life-yeast
[Chorus]
[Fuller, more power]
And they call this beautiful
All this eating of the dead (eating dead)
Spring's just winter's leftovers
Reheated and resold and fed
To baby birds who don't know better (don't know)
Than to open wide and trust
That mama's bringing breakfast
Not somebody's recent dust
[Bridge - Stripped experimental]
[Whispered invented language]
Spring-tongue words we don't have:
Worm-feasting
Mud-waking
Root-breaking
Bloom-aching
(beatbox enters - sounds like soil cracking)
The bulb doesn't know it's pushing
Through somebody's ribcage
It just knows up
Just knows light
Just knows stage
[Build - Tribal drums, voice rising]
And maybe that's the secret—
Not knowing
Whose bones you're standing on
To reach the sun
(TO REACH THE SUN!)
[Final Chorus - Operatic]
[Maximum production, cathartic]
So call this beautiful!
All this eating of the dead!
Spring's winter's leftovers
Composted in soil's bed!
And baby birds don't question
What mama brings to eat
And I don't question daffodils
Growing from grandma's feet!
(from her feet!)
(from her feet!)
[Outro - Settling quirky]
[Piano playful, drums fade]
The worms throw a party
Every single spring
And everyone's invited
If you're willing to be eaten and reborn as something
(as something)
(as something green)
(piano final chord, vinyl crackle fades)
[End]

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[Intro - Piano] [Quirky Eastern European jazz] (piano bouncy, vinyl crackle) [Verse 1] [Conversational, intimate] The worms throw a party underneath the thaw They're eating what I buried all along The robin's back but she's a resurrectionist Digging up the dead to feed her young (mm-mm) Spring's a grave robber Exhuming everything Call it "renewal" If it makes you feel less queasy about the teeth [Pre-Chorus] [Building, playful] Bloom-vomit, dirt-birth Corpse-garden, green-burst [Chorus] [Uptempo jazz, belt but quirky] And they call this beautiful All this eating of the dead (eating dead) Spring's just winter's leftovers Reheated and resold and fed To baby birds who don't know better Than to open wide and trust (open wide) That mama's bringing breakfast Not somebody's recent dust (somebody's dust) [Interlude - Piano] [Eastern European runs, playful] (piano takes solo, ascending quirky melody) [Verse 2] [More intense, dark humor] The daffodils are cannibals They ate my grandmother's hands She planted bulbs in '82 Now they're wearing her wedding bands (oh) The tulips staged a coup Overthrew the sleeping monarch Call it "spring awakening" But it's really a hostile takeover with pollen [Pre-Chorus] [Building tribal drums] Bloom-vomit, dirt-birth Corpse-garden, green-burst Mud-mother, bone-feast Death-party, life-yeast [Chorus] [Fuller, more power] And they call this beautiful All this eating of the dead (eating dead) Spring's just winter's leftovers Reheated and resold and fed To baby birds who don't know better (don't know) Than to open wide and trust That mama's bringing breakfast Not somebody's recent dust [Bridge - Stripped experimental] [Whispered invented language] Spring-tongue words we don't have: Worm-feasting Mud-waking Root-breaking Bloom-aching (beatbox enters - sounds like soil cracking) The bulb doesn't know it's pushing Through somebody's ribcage It just knows up Just knows light Just knows stage [Build - Tribal drums, voice rising] And maybe that's the secret— Not knowing Whose bones you're standing on To reach the sun (TO REACH THE SUN!) [Final Chorus - Operatic] [Maximum production, cathartic] So call this beautiful! All this eating of the dead! Spring's winter's leftovers Composted in soil's bed! And baby birds don't question What mama brings to eat And I don't question daffodils Growing from grandma's feet! (from her feet!) (from her feet!) [Outro - Settling quirky] [Piano playful, drums fade] The worms throw a party Every single spring And everyone's invited If you're willing to be eaten and reborn as something (as something) (as something green) (piano final chord, vinyl crackle fades) [End]

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