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Sunset Boulevard - Completion Of The Script Lyrics

Musicals – Sunset Boulevard - Completion Of The Script Lyrics

JOE
In December, the rains came. One great big package, over-sized,
Just like everything else in California;
And it came right through the roof of my room above the garage.
So she had me moved into the main house.
Into what Max called "the room of the husbands".
And on a clear day, the theory was, you could see Catalina.
And little by little I worked through to the end of the script.
At which point I might have left:
Only by then those two boys from the finance company had traced my car and towed it away,
And I hadn't seen one single dollar of cash money since I arrived.

NORMA
Stop that!
Today's the day.

JOE
What do you mean?

NORMA
Max is going to deliver the script to Paramount.

JOE
You're really going to give it to DeMille?

NORMA
I've just spoken with my astrologer. She read DeMille's horoscope; she read mine.

JOE
Did she read the script?

NORMA
DeMille is Leo; I'm Scorpio.
Mars is transiting Jupiter and today is the day of closest conjunction.

JOE
Oh well, that's all right, then.

NORMA
Max.

MAX
Yes, Madame.

NORMA
Make sure it goes to Mr. DeMille in person.

JOE
Well...

NORMA
Great day.

JOE
It's been real interesting.

NORMA
Yes...hasn't it?

JOE
I want to thank you for trusting me with your baby.

NORMA
Not at all, it is I who should thank you.

JOE
Will you call and let me know as soon as you have some news?

NORMA
Call? Where?

JOE
My apartment.

NORMA
Oh, but you couldn't possibly think of leaving now, Joe.

JOE
Norma, the script is finished.

NORMA
No, Joe. No. It's just the beginning, it's just the firt draft.
I couldn't dream of letting you go, I need your support.

JOE
Well, I can't stay.

NORMA
You'll stay on with full salary, of course...

JOE
Oh, Norma, it's not the money
Yes, of course, I'll stay until we get some sort of news back from Paramount.

NORMA
Thank you. Thank you, Joe.

JOE
So, Max wheeled out that foreign bus
Brushed the leopardskin upholstery
He trundled along to Paramount
To hand Cecil B. our hopeless opus
My work was over
I was feeling no pain
Locked up like John the Baptist
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