THE SONG REMAINS THE SAME

A short play about a forgotten song. In reality, I forgot a song, just as described in the play, and decided to make a play out of it. Unlike the play, I never remembered it again. Though it probably sucked anyway.

(Like the other play I posted here, the format is messed up in translation from Word to here, and I do not care.)

THE SONG REMAINS THE SAME

Dave sits at a table in the middle of the room. He is deep in thought, once in a while looking at a notebook on the table.

Erica walks on.

ERICA
(taking off coat)
What a beautiful day! The sun, the air...
(inhales deeply)
It smells funny in here.

DAVE
I came up with a new song today.

ERICA
Oh?

DAVE
Came to me while I was out walking Henri. Then, not long after I got back home, right before I was about to take a nap, I forgot it.

(Erica hangs her coat on one of the chairs at the table.)

DAVE
I had it all in my head--bass line, guitar, synthesizer introduction--everything. And now it’s gone.

(Erica sits down, takes a Tamagotchi out of her pocket.)

ERICA
I found this.

DAVE
I can’t remember the bass line. I can’t remember the key the vocals are supposed to be in. I can’t remember how to phrase the vocals. The only thing I have left are these lyrics.

(He picks up the notebook.)

DAVE
(reading lyrics)
Pain and decay. I see no way to hide. Dissected days. I’ve found no place to find it.

ERICA
Sounds depressing.

DAVE
(reading more lyrics)
Staring at the stars. Looking up but seeing nothing. Trying to look far away. Darkness just reminds you of something.

ERICA
Hm.

DAVE
(reading more lyrics)
While you’re waiting. See you fading. Sit and let it drift away. Can’t think of another thing to say.

(Erica looks at the Tamagotchi.)

DAVE
It’s a love song.

ERICA
Was a love song.

DAVE
Oh, it’ll come back to me.

ERICA
I didn’t know you were a songwriter.

DAVE
Huh? And what about my work with Hot Alfalfa?

ERICA
I just didn’t know you wrote any songs when you were in Hot Alfalfa.

DAVE
Come on, I came up with the name for christ sakes.

ERICA
But did you write any songs?

DAVE
Many.

ERICA
Which ones?

DAVE
Well let’s see...“Strawberry Jam,” “Sitting on a Rain Cloud”...“Let’s All Get High”...Don’t you remember those?

ERICA
I only saw you guys play once.
(puts down Tamagotchi)
I can’t seem to figure this thing out.

DAVE
“Sitting on a Rain Cloud”--that was a great song.

(Erica picks up the Tamagotchi again.)

ERICA
I don’t recall that one.

DAVE
Forget about it.
(pause)
That “thing,” by the way, is called a Tamagotchi.

ERICA
A Tamagotchi. Do you know how a Tamagotchi works?

DAVE
(looking at notebook)
No I do not.

ERICA
What was your new song going to be called?

DAVE
“I’m Just Trying to Love.” Or “I’m Just Trying to Love You.” Which one do you like?

ERICA
They’re both nice...“I’m Just Trying to Love You,” I guess.

DAVE
“I’m Just Trying to Love You.” It was kind of an oldies kind of love song. Not U2 oldies though.

ERICA
U2 oldies?

DAVE
Yeah, well, nowadays, oldies stations get away with playing “Street With No Name” and stuff. “With Or Without You.” That’s not oldies, not in my book. This--my song--was real oldies. The Crystals, Shangri-Las, Phil Spector, Beach Boys, “Help Me Rhonda”--that kind of oldies.

ERICA
I like U2.

DAVE
Everybody likes U2. They’re like pizza. They’re like McDonald’s. But they aren’t oldies.

ERICA
They’re old.

DAVE
The Rolling Stones are old. The Beatles are old. Those guys are ridiculously old, and still, no matter how old they are, no matter how withered and senile, they are classic rock. Not oldies. Now U2, U2 is barely even classic rock. Oldies means ancient. Like dead.

ERICA
Did you take Henri out today?

DAVE
Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?

ERICA
Well, I know you forgot a song, a song called “I’m Just Trying to Love.”

DAVE
You. “I’m Just Trying to Love You.”

ERICA
I learned you used to write songs for your band Hot Alfalfa.

DAVE
And I still write songs.

ERICA
(holding up Tamagotchi)
I found out that this little thing is called a Tamagotchi.

DAVE
I still write songs!

ERICA
Do you?

DAVE
(standing up)
Okay, to prove it, I’ll go ahead and come up with one right now.

(He takes a recorder from his pocket, starts to play it, albeit very unskillfully.)

ERICA
I didn’t know you played flute.

DAVE
Well, that’s something else you’ve learned today, isn’t it.

(He plays some more.)

DAVE
(stops playing)
And it’s a recorder, not a flute.

(He resumes his playing. Erica resumes messing around with her Tamagotchi.)

ERICA
I thought you were coming up with a song.

(Dave stops playing.)

DAVE
I am coming up with a song.
(takes a harmonica from his other pocket)
And you’re going to help me. Take this.

(He hands her the harmonica.)

ERICA
I don’t know how to play.

DAVE
That’s not the point.

ERICA
Okay...

(They proceed to play, a chaotic, absolutely unmusical mess. After about ten seconds, Dave stops.)

DAVE
It’s no use.

(Erica stops playing the harmonica. Dave sits down. Erica starts playing again. Dave picks up the Tamagotchi, starts playing with it. After a bit, Dave looks up from the Tamagotchi and at Erica. He seems interested in what she’s playing.)

DAVE
Wait...

ERICA
(stops playing)
What?

DAVE
Play that again, what you just played.

ERICA
Okay...

(She plays again.)

DAVE
That’s it!
(stands up)
That’s it!

(Erica stops playing. Dave goes around the table, hugs and kisses Erica.)

DAVE
That’s the song!

(In joyful celebration, Dave runs off the stage. Erica watches him go, shakes her head in amazement, then, as the lights fade out, plays the harmonica a little more.)


END OF PLAY