coming of age - a musical drama about being thirteen

Ann has written over twenty plays for young people. This musical (music by Melanie Hammet) was made into a film by the National Association of Secondary School Principals.  Favorite excerpts follow.

Puberty Blues (this one was written by the composer, Melanie Hammet)

I told my Mama I was feelin’ uptight
Got tired of sittin’ home on Saturday night.
She called me crazy, said I ought-a be glad.
Said goin’ out at night was only a fad, 
And I know if she don’t leave me alone I’m gonna go mad.

I asked my father, would she leave me alone?
He said not to worry, just to wait ‘til I’m grown.
But patience not bein’ one of my virtues,
I knew I’d fight whether I’d win or lose.

And I’m singin’, Lord I’m singin’ the puberty blues.

I’ve got acne and I’m six feet tall.
I weigh ninety-nine pounds and that’s not all.
I’ve got half a figure and I’m messed in my head,
Only thirteen years old and I wish I was dead.

I’m getting’ tired of havin’ two left feet
And when I try to clap my hands I can’t make ‘em meet.
My hair is always dirty and braces are a pain.
If I don’t hurry and mature I’m sure to go insane.

And I’m singin’, Lord I’m singin’ the puberty blues.

Baby’s Bye Bye

Bye bye Mama, you can’t rock me anymore.
So long Daddy, you see I’m walkin’ out the door.
Please understand that it’s nothing you have done.
I’m bound to be me and I’m bound for fun.

So long Mama, you can remember how it was.
Bye by Daddy, you can’t keep me here because
I’m not your little girl, I’m no baby face.
I’m putting on my leaving shoes, entering the race.

Adios Mama. You can’t fix my hair.
Sayonara Daddy. Don’t tell me what to wear.
I’m gonna be my own person from now on.
Jus lend me a dollar fifty and I am gone.

(click here to hear this one performed )
 

Birds & Bees

Please don’t tell me ‘bout the birds and the bees, 
Those little bitty creatures flittin’ round in the trees.
They don’t talk about us; why do we talk about them?
Leave ‘em up in a hive, or out on a limb.

Please don’t tell me ‘bout the facts of life,
I’ve got yself a mother, why do I need a wife?
If those are the facts then I’ll take fiction. 
What happens to me is not for your prediction.

Please don’t tell me ‘bout the birds and the bees, 
I’ll cover my ears, I’ll crawl on my knees.
Please don’t tell me ‘bout the facts of life,
I’ll commit hara-kiri with my boy scout knife.