“A HYPOCHONDRIAC’S SONG”
From the musical Out of My Head
Recorded on Making Beautiful: World Premiere Recording
Performed by Allie Bower

(The lights rise on the WOMAN 2, seated on a dimly lit bedroom or front porch.  Sunrise; as the song progresses, the light becomes more intense, mirroring the oncoming day.)

WOMAN 2
Every morning while the
World is waking I’m still
Up and shaking,
Holy God … It’s a new day …
Another chapter and a new affliction
Filled and fraught with fiction
The conviction: death, for sure.
I feel sick—catch my breath—
But it’s gone—
This is it.  This is death.
Just hold on—!

Then everything’s fine …
The panic, it passes,
And i feel a little crazy I was so afraid
I’d die …
From some foolish reason, and I don’t know why.
But I do know it sounds quirky and queer,
And i know that it’s hard to relate to my fear.
You think, “Go get some air, a drink, and a spine …
And get out of your mind.”
Ooh … (She trails off.)

I’ve lived my life like this for God-knows-how-long,
Something’s always wrong,
And the song goes on and on
(and on and on and on and on and on) ‘cause
If you can catch it then I’m
Sure I’ve caught it, or at
Least I’ve thought it.
A.I.D.S., I’ve got it,
Cancer, got it,
T.B., got it,
Bird Flu, got it,
S.A.R.S., not got it,
But I’ll get it yet.
Give me pills, give me blood, give me bed
What could help, what could cure the shit in my head?

But everything’s “fine,”
The “birds sing in blue skies,”
And everybody’s happy, everybody’s at peace,
But me;
I’m locked in a closet, surfing Web M. D.
And I know it’s all nuts.  I know that.  I do.
And I ask myself, “What’s the matter with you?
Go get yourself help, get a shrink, you’ll be fine—
And get out of your—

Never mind!
Stop,
And look at yourself. 
What are you doing; don’t you
Ever mind
This
Talking to yourself like this?
These pills …
This problem …
This pity …
Somebody, please—!

Get me out of my mind!
I wanna look to the future,
Wanna go and buy a calendar I’ll actually use
And how!
Wanna plan a vacation for six months from now,
Wanna go and subscribe to a good magazine,
Plant a garden and thrive, and exit this scene.
Wanna find me a guy
Who’ll never ask why
I hold him so tightly with every goodbye.
And then …
I’ll be so happy,
I just might die.

(The lights become very hot and bright until the final chord.  Cross-fade.)