Stephen Sondheim
Sunday (Finale)
[GEORGE, spoken]
Dot, why did write these words?

[DOT, spoken]
They are your words, George. The words you uttered so often when you worked. 

[GEORGE, spoken]
"Order. Design. Tension. Composition. Balance. Light." Dot, I cannot read this word. 

[DOT, spoken]
"Harmony."[ALL]
Sunday
By the blue
Purple yellow red water
On the green
Purple yellow red grass
As we pass
Through arrangements of shadows
Towards the verticals of tree

Forever[GEORGE, spoken]

"So much love in his words...
Forever with his colors...

How George looks...
He can look forever...
What does he see?
His eyes so dark and shiny...
So careful...
So exact..."[ALL]
By the blue
Purple yellow red water
On the green
Orange violet mass
Of the grass
[DOT]
In our perfect park

[GEORGE]
Made of flecks of light
And dark

[ALL]
And parasols

People strolling through the trees
Of a small suburban park
On an island in the river
On an ordinary Sunday
Sunday
Sunday

[GEORGE, spoken]
"White. A blank page or canvas. His favorite. So many possibilities..."