Believing I’d make a good Lancelot
Is why I auditioned for the Spamalot.
I figured with casting, I had a good chance,
But auditions required that I sing, act, AND dance
In past dance auditions, I’ve made quite a name
For being the one that’s tremendously lame.
I move with a style best described as confusion
With flailings and stumbles and awkward obtrusion.
I’ve auditioned before for this director.
A man quite adept as a talent detector.
The show I tried out for was called Xanadu.
He dismissed me from that with an awkward, “Thank you.”
But donning my jazz shoes, I looked past my fear
Of failing and then made it perfectly clear
To myself you get nothing if you never try.
If dreams are for making then make sure they’re high.
Day one of auditions was not very long.
It ended from singing just only one song,
And news to return to show what I’ve got
When dancing and read for the part “Lancelot.”
Day two was the callback, and that I did dread
‘cause I knew choreography was coming ahead.
I took a deep breath, and learned what I could,
But have to admit I was not very good.
Most auditionees learned it effortlessly,
Yet I’m bouncing through it like I have to go pee.
They twirled and they stepped; a synchronized flock.
While I stumble around like I just learned to walk.
Choreographer’s one of the best that’s in town,
So I feel really bad for letting him down.
Despite this embarrassing bit of chagrin,
At least I decided to never give in.
I admit to that fact that I’m not the best,
And surprised they don’t make me take a drug test
’cause I don’t seem to know my left from my right
And groove like a man that’s incredibly white.
It’ll take two whole weeks to make their decision
Of who will fill what in the show they envision.
So one thing I hope that you learn from this page:
It takes more than good looks to get up on the stage.