Sometimes I find a perfect piece of writing by someone else.  I envy the piece and its author, turning the rhythm of the words this way and that, admiring the glint of the emotion and the cadence of the language.  Then, I send the gem on its way — to the person for whom I need just that perfect pronouncement.  This could be a card, or a story, or an essay.  Sometimes, my own words just don’t say what I want.

Today, I awakened thinking of the lyrics to a song from “Carnival!”, written by Bob Merrill.  It is sung by the character Paul Barthelet, a lonely puppeteer, to his puppet Carrot Top:

Who can I be
Now that I can’t be me anymore?
Shall I be that sunny smiling fellow
Who won’t rock the boat
‘Cause he might splash the ocean
But sits there and cheerfully twitters?
Then people might say
See that man over there –
He’s bitter.
You’re a lucky fellow.
Such a lucky fellow.
The secret is your smile!
I ought to have a smile.
A smile takes quite a knack.
I ought to have a smile.
And who cares if it’s real
Or painted with shellack.
A smile full of theatrics
For easily agreeing.
Two eyes with acrobatics
To see the way you’re seeing.
So turnabout!
You say the words for me.
‘Cause everybody likes you.
Everybody likes you.
And no one — no one likes me.

So, those words say what I’m thinking today, when I see someone smiling, easily reaching to touch the hand of the person beside them.  You say the words for me.  At least until I find my own voice.