I sell the morning papers sir, My name is jimmy brown Everybody knows that I|'m a newsboy of the town You will hear me yelling "morning star" As I run
That's my cigar You'll steal another Hey bummers we got work to do Since when did you become me mother Ah stop your bawling Hey, who asked you?! Try
A pair of new shoes with matchin' laces A permanent box at Sheepshead races A porcelain tub with boilin' water A Saturday night with the Mayor's daughter
Mush-Try Bottle Alley or the harbor Race-Try Central Park it's guaranteed Crutchy-Try any banker bum or barber Kid Blink-They almost all knows how to
Music by Alan Menken. Lyrics by Jack Feldman. MEDDA: My lovey-dovey baby I boo-hoo-hoo for you I used to be your tootsie-wootsie Then you said toodley
So that's what they call a family Mother daughter father son Guess that everything you heard about is true So you aint got any family Who said you needed
Open the gates and seize the day Don't be afraid and don't delay Nothing can break us No one can make us Give our rights away Arise and seize the day
Pulitzer and Hearst They think we're nothin' Are we nothin'? No! Pulitzer and Hearst They think they got us Do they got us? No! Even though we ain'
Les-When the circulation bell starts ringing will we hear it? Race-Nah. What if the Delancey's come out swinging will we hear it? Les-(spoken)No! Race
JACK: Santa Fe My old friend I can't spend my whole life hidin' You're the only light that's guidin' me today Will you keep a candle burnin'? Will you
Racetrack: In 1899, the streets of New York City echoed with the voices of Newsies. Peddeling the newspapers of Joseph Pulitizer, William Randolph Hearst
Music by Alan Menken. Lyrics by Jack Feldman. MEDDA: High times, hard times Sometimes the living is sweet And sometimes there's nothing to eat But I
This is the story you wanted to write Well, tonight is the night that you can Just get this done and by dawn's early light You can finish the fight you
I sell the morning papers sir my name is Jimmy Brown Everybody knows that I'm the newsboy of the town You can hear me yellin' Morning Star runnin' along
Yo, this is how I'm comin' for the nine deuce Another fat, fat track So Rhythm D, pour the orange juice And let's relax while sippin' on yak Because it
You went from being him to being you that night when you told me the truth You hid your face inside your hands and cried and told me that you once wanted