Welcome-ye, You're in Five Points Lyrics - Rope

Music and Lyrics by Ryan Scott Oliver
Rope the Musical - Welcome-ye, You're in Five Points Lyrics

Welcome-ya, you’re in Five Points,   
New York, 1864.
The “mouth o’ hell in Manhattan,”
In the time of Civil War.

Here we are now in Five Points.
Ooh, those two words leak with blood!
Architects paved the Lake Collect
For this crap-hole covered in crud.

Where Park and Worth and Baxter cross,
Morality here is obsolete;
The Devil Himself lives down the street.

Hey! Livin’ downtown in Five Points
In this mixed-up neighborhood.
Irish, black, white — the gang’s all here,
(And a dime for ev’ry Jew)
Shalom! Dia Duit^! And welcome you!

(They cheer and jeer at the audience.)

Twelve to a room in Five Points.
Cuz your mother past out drunk,
Papa just lost the business,
And you’re stealin’ stolen junk.

Hard to find God in Five Points,
Tho’ we’ve churches chock-a-block.
Jesus came once to Park Place,
And said, “Christ! It smells like cock.”

These tenements may stay the years
Reality’s worse than they’ll depict
In this pestilent ward that Hell hath bricked.

But!  Sure there’s some good in Five Points …
It ain’t all so sturm und drang.
Pockets o’ folks make off real good,
And they live great lives, no doubt —
They’re just no fun to sing about!

(Stage opens up to see Five Points)

Pass the vagabonds gone mad with the heat,
(Who bow low to pigs in the street),

And the washerwoman cursing her cous’,
(Who made shop where the Old Brew’ry was),

Down our Murd’rer’s Alley; (ragpickers’ bones,
And blackguards’ bodies scatt’rin’ the stones),

As the Negro’s walkin’ scared to the church,
Irish men ahead of the lurch,
They search for hope,
Tuggin’ life by a rope which hangs (it hangs!) —
Yet, that’s not the worst!
The worst is the gangs.
Ah yes, the gangs …
The Gangs of New York.

(The Native B’hoys emerge.  Clay among them.)

Careful-ya, you’re in Five Points,
Where the Gangs of New York reign.
Not talkin’ your Jets and Sharks, love —
These’d bash their frickin’ brains.

Lately the kings o’ Five Points
Are the Native B’hoys — right there.
They were born in Manhattan,
So it’s theirs by blood, they swear.

Tho’ soon you’ll call it Chinatown,
Plurality’s got with Native knives,
Your boy could be king (if he survives!).

Native B’hoys hate the Irish,
‘Cuz the Irish ruled before.
Natives keep Irish underfoot,
But today we’ve a change of scene —
Today the Irish fight back!
And crown

Now the Son of Aaron takes back the Points
As she, his new queen, he anoints.

It’s a war that sets our play in its course,
And war will be our tale’s driving force.

It’s a story of a Native roué,
A storytellin’ thief we’ll call Clay,

And a boy named Shy, who’s eerie and blind …
A boy named Shy with whom he must bind …
And find that hope
Can live in a rope they’ll tie, they’ll tie — !

Give-ya nine cheers for Five Points,
Cuz it’s here our stars’ll cross.
Take it from us, The Daybreak Boys,
We’ll make you a story to hum,
With our fiddle, guitar and drum;
It’s a journey out of a slum
Called Five Points.
Five Points!  RAH!

(the lyrics some different than video)

Other Songs: Ryan Scott Oliver Songs Lyrics
Rope Welcome-ye You're in Five Points Lyrics

Music and Lyrics by Ryan Scott Oliver

Four-legged Creatures
I Have Seen the After
Welcome-ye, You're in Five Points
Map of Scars
When Lily Came
The View from Here
The Seraph
Her Sweater
Dull Little Ache
A Hypochondriac's Song
Living Dead
Stroke by Stroke
The Killing
Lost Boy
Cut You a Piece
On Monday
The Ballad of Sara Berry
What I Wouldn't Do For You
Twisted Teeth
Leave Luanne