Pretend you are the lead tonight
With an ample contralto sound.
Your debut has come at last,
A new star is to be found.
The spinning soprano has left the stage.
The tenor has ceased his bleating.
The hall is in expectation,
Set for a thunderous greeting.
A contralto does not court.
Has no need for romantic duets—
Neither the insipid codes of marriage,
Nor the obligation of begets.
Forget the listed cast,
The hierarchy of voices,
For you are regal tonight
Your outbursts are the choicest.
There’s a spotlight to be sought
That is clearly overdue.
Sing out, don’t mark the score.
The evening depends on you.
Regale them not with high notes
But with a line tight as steel
For contraltos are unmatched,
Their cutting force of zeal.
The lead cannot but lead
For plots demand a foil.
The contralto center stage
Claiming rightful soil.
