(Poking his head out. He’s older, softer, sadder.) I know what I did. I don’t need your lecture. I built this whole mess on a single conjecture— “If more is more, then the most must be best.” But the most… was a barbed-wire fence ’round an empty nest.
(Singing softly, a melody rising) Plant it in the shadow of the mess you made. Let the roots break the concrete where the profit laid. One seed doesn’t fix it. One tree doesn’t mend. But a forest of sorry’s a forest, my friend. the lorax musical script
The game? Boy, the game ended ten thousand stumps back. You’ve turned the Truffula groves into bric-a-brac and a shack! You’ve silenced the Swomee-Swans, choked the Humming-Fish dumb. And still you sit there, counting your nails and your thumb. (Poking his head out
(To the audience, breaking the fourth wall) He lifted me up by the scruff of my soul. He said, “Unless someone like you…” (He stops, choked.) …cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not. I built this whole mess on a single
