Poor Baby - Stephen Sondheim

Robert

What?

I worry

Why?

He’s all alone

There’s no one—

Where?

In his life

Oh

Robert ought to have a woman

Poor baby, all alone

Evening after evening by the telephone

We’re the only tenderness he’s ever known

Poor baby!

David—

Yes?

Robert

What?

I worry

Why?

It’s such a waste

There’s no one—

Where?

In his life

Oh

Robert ought to have a woman

Poor baby, sitting there

Staring at the walls and playing solitaire

Making conversation with the empty air

Poor baby!

Robert…

Bobby…

Robert, angel…

Bobby, honey…

You know

No one

Wants you to be happy

More than I do

No one

But isn’t she a little bit, well

You know

Face it

Why her?

Better

No one—

…wants you to be happy

More than I do

No one

But—

Isn’t she a little bit, well

You know

Face it--

You know, no one

Wants you to be happy

More than I do--

You know, no one

Wants you to be happy

More than I do

No one

But--

Isn’t she a little bit, well—

Dumb?

Tacky?

Vulgar?

Old?

Tall?

Aggressive?

Where is she from?

Neurotic?

Peculiar?

And cheap?

She seems so dead

She’s tall enough to be your mother

And gross?

Depressing?

She’s very weird

And immature?

Goliath!

Poor baby, all alone

Throw a lonely dog a bone, it’s still a bone

We’re the only tenderness he’s ever known

Poor baby!