Hard black wood with chips and cracks,

And curtains filled with secrets and facts,

Bright lights and sound that fill the air,

Techies run back and forth keeping actors in care,

The audience never takes the entire seat,

As each of the actors begin to speak,

But when the lights are down,

And there is no sound,

The sea of black comes alive,

There is something that makes the department strives,

It's the stage that speaks for the history of the shows,

That made all the students into pros,

From an umbrella in a View,

To the Magnolias that made a girl full of strife,

to the Desire of the past for a few,

To the trumpet that destroyed many lives,

To the ladders and art that tore apart two,

To the town that told stories that started a hype,

To the Tropics where smoke rings blew,

To the Roof of mendacity, and a promiscuous wife, 

To the strong hold of a Jew,

The stage has a voice greater that the actors,

But it's the actors who must make the voice great.