Emily,
You know I love you.
And that our friendship is bound,
to sail upon the wings of fortune.
But I'm sorry to say,
that if you get in the way of me,
I'll take you down,
Like boiling water on ice,
Like fucking mac v.s. PC.
I'll take you down.
Going for an audition,
our monologues prepared,
our hopes high, and our nerves frayed.
I'll be sure to give you a slap on the back,
sticking a swastika on your shirt.
Give you tea, "to help your voice"
"I've heard that bleach does wonders,
you'll sound like julie andrews"
Maybe I'll just go low tech,
and tell you about the panel.
All 8 foot tall, full of whiskey and crack,
ready to shoot the next soprano,
that dares come in and sing.
So, when your nursing back to health,
from ravaged vocal chords,
or a bullet in the knee,
and you see me upon the stage,
dressed in full drag,
singing "On my Own",
you'll remember what i told you.
I'll take you down,
Like a hot knife through butter,
Like Simon Cowell and Rebbeca Black,
I'll take you down.
Remember that next year,
when we are the best of friends.
If you see a chance for that lead role,
you might want to keep it to yourself.
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