From the 1971 Broadway Musical:

FOLLIES

Book by James Goldman

Music and Lyrics by Stephen Sondheim

 

THE ROAD YOU DIDN'T TAKE

 

You're either a poet
Or you're a lover
Or you're the famous
[Man still unknown].
You take one road.
You try one door.
There isn't time for any more.
One's life consists of either/or.
One has regrets
Which one forgets,
And as the years go by:

The road you didn't take
Hardly comes to mind.
Does it?
The door you didn't try:
Where could it have led?
The choice you didn't make
Never was defined.
Was it?
Dreams you didn't dare
Are dead.
Were they ever there?
Who said?
I don't remember;

I don't remember

At all.

The books I'll never read
Wouldn't change a thing.
Would they?
The girls I'll never know
I'm too tired for.
The lives I'll never lead
Couldn't make me sing.
Could they? Could they? Could they?
Chances that you miss--
Ignore.
Ignorance is bliss--
What's more:
You won't remember.
You won't remember
At all--

Not at all.

 

You yearn for the women,
Long for the money,
Envy the famous
[Men never known].
The decades fly.
The yearnings fade;

The longings die.
You learn to bid them all goodbye.
And oh!  The peace . . .
The blessed peace . . .
At last you come to know:

The roads you never take
Go through rocky ground.
Don't they?
The choices that you make
Aren't all that grim.
The worlds you never see
Still will be around.
Won't they?
The [man] I'll never be:
Who remembers him?

I'M STILL HERE

Good times and bum times, I've seen them all
And, my dear:    I'm still here.
Plush velvet sometimes--
Sometimes just pretzels and beer:  but I'm here

I've stuffed the dailies in my shoes,
Strummed ukuleles, sung the blues--
Seen all my dreams disappear:  but I'm here.
I've slept in shanties, guest of the W.P.A.: but I'm here.
Danced in my scanties--
Three bucks a night was the pay: but I'm here

I've stood on bread lines with the best.
Watched while the headlines did the rest--
In the depression was I depressed?
No where near: I met a big financier, and I'm here.

I've been through Gandhi, Windsor and Wally's affair:  and I'm here.
Amos 'n' Andy, Mah-jongg and platinum hair: and I'm here
I got through Abie's Irish Rose, Five Dionne babies, Major Bowes.
Had heebie-jeebies for Beebe's, Bathysphere--
I got through Brenda Frazier: and I'm here

I've gotten through Herbert and J. Edgar Hoover--
Gee, that was fun and a half!
When you've been through Herbert and J. Edgar Hoover,
Anything else is a laugh.

I've been through Reno, I've been through Beverly Hills: and I'm here.
Reefers and vino, rest cures, religion and pills: and I'm here.
Been called a 'Pinko', commie tool: got through it, stinko, by my pool--
I should've gone to an acting school, that seems clear.
Still someone said, "She's sincere":  so I'm here

Black sable one day, next day it goes into hock: but I'm here
Top billing Monday, Tuesday, you're touring in stock:  but I'm here
First you're another sloe-eyed vamp
Then someone's mother, then you're camp
Then you career from career to career--
I'm almost through my memoirs, and I'm here

I've gotten through, "Hey, lady, aren't you whoozis?
Wow, what a looker you were,"
Or better yet, "Sorry, I thought you were whoozis
Whatever happened to her?"

Good times and bum times, I've seen 'em all
And, my dear: I'm still here.
Flush velvet sometimes--
Sometimes just pretzels and beer, but I'm here

I've run the gamut, A to Z
Three cheers and damn it:  C'est la vie!
I got through all of last year, and I'm here!

Lord knows:  at least I've been there,

And I'm here!

Look who's here!

I'm still here!