Original Cast - Golden Palace lyrics

The. Subject. Is. Reading The subject is reading. The teacher selects a pa**age. "Everyone turn to chapter four." Then selects a student to read that pa**age out loud. Big blue skies open wide sunlight bounces off my eyes if I shut them tight the light still gets through. Big blue skies open wide Sunlight bounces off my eyes big blue skies open wide Sunlight bounces off my eyes Big blue skies open wide sunlight bounces off my eyes if I sh** them tight the light still gets through It's a warm night My father is playing under the streetlamp with the other boys One by one, they get called in for supper. My father lets himself into the house. Brushing his teeth makes his gums bleed and nobody is checking, so he just goes to bed. In the morning, he puts on the same clothes he wore yesterday. Way up high, out of reach from you and me sits a Golden Palace I have no map, I have no key. The Golden Palace is located just over the horizon. You can't see it, but it's up there, in a high up, out of reach, top of the wold place. There inside are scientists and mathematicians. Destined to lead the way My father is an excellent mimic. "Everyone turn to chapter eight." If the teacher calls him third, he can recite the pa**age. If she calls him last, he can recite anything that has been said aloud that day Until one day, he feels a hand touch his shoulder. "Please begin." Everyone is waiting for him to read, and he has to say in front of everyone... "I can't." My dad is working second shift at the GM plan He finishes the balony sandwiches that my mom made for him and solves the last squares of the crossword puzzle He still has some time before he has to return to the factory floor He fishes an old unemployment check stub out of the pocket of his coveralls, takes a big pen, and begins to write a poem like Tom in The Gla** Menagerie and the warehouse, writing on the back of a shoebox There inside are novelists and bine musicians Building great works of art I'm home from school on Winter break Speaking of, my dad's in school too now How about that.. "We're both gonna have out masters at the same time" I'm organising some boxes and papers and I find the old check stub with the poem written inside in his handwriting "Dad, this is good! You can really write" "Oh now,.. I can't" The golden palace is where the beautiful people and great finger of this and previous generations can be inter bask into their brilliants and to create all the great works of art It's all going down in The Golden Palace Michelangelo David; To k** a Mockingbird; The X-men Yes, great work Worthy work And the people that populate that place pop out those important paintings, poems and pieces are deeply intelligents, Stunning, clean, privileged people There is no room in the golden palace for girl like me Girls who come from, where I come from I see my hands resting on the keyboard of my laptop I look past my hand, and the keyboard, and I see through the pains of my studio window, out into the sharp winter woods I am typing this sentence at the Macdowell Artist Colony, in Peterborough, New Hamshire where I am granted a residentsy to work alongside some of the greatest artist and writers on the planet To write the words you are lisening too Right Now If it's me Thoren Wilder wrote our town here Oh, my cursor blinks at me I tried to relax my brain, my hands, to write I can't I checked to see if cellphone coverage is squaking it's way through the New Hamshire woods, and into my studio On my Facebook news feed, someones updates their status with this quote from John Adams to his wife Abigail: "May 12th, 1718 I'm a study politics in war, that my sons may have liberty to study mathematics and philosophy" Everybody is waiting for him to read "My son's off to study mathematics and philosophy, geography, national history, architecture" We're both gonna have our masters at the same time "In order to give their children a right to study music, painting, poetry" I have been granted a residentsy at the Macdowell Artists Colony I feel a hand touch my schoulder Please begin, Please begin, Please begin.. There... Is... A Golden Palace.. It's a Chinese restaurant, located at 321 Nashua street in Milfod, New Hamshire It's not over the horizon, It is not out of reach The Golden Palace is anywhere we make it It is anywhere we make anything we want to make And there is room for all of us The literit boys, the poets that they become Awkward girls with big faces, and big feet and strange ideas We all belong here My fingers begin to move To pluck letter, to raise them in order The- Subject- Is-... Reading Big blue skies open wide sunlight bounces off my eyes if I shut them tight the light still gets through....