(Sing-speaking, a raspy, soulful growl) I speak for the trees, though the trees are all gone. I speak for the wind, though the wind has moved on. I’ve shouted and hollered till my voice went dry, At the fool in the window with the greedy green eye.
(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.
Setting: A murky, grey wasteland. The stage is littered with jagged stumps and skeletal factory parts. A single, rusty ladder leads up to the ONCE-LER’s shuttered window. The air smells of "smogulous smoke." the lorax musical script
(Muttering, to himself) Go away, little pest. There’s no profit in shame. And you can’t knit a Thneed without playing the game.
(A long silence. Then, barely a whisper.) …Ted. (Sing-speaking, a raspy, soulful growl) I speak for
I couldn’t plant it. I couldn’t let go. That seed was a mirror—too painful to show. But hiding the seed doesn’t hide the crime. The Lorax was right. I was stealing… not time.
(Clutching the jar to his chest) So what do you want? A confession? A tear? A promise to fix what I poisoned last year? (Singing softly, a melody rising) Plant it in
(Smiling, fading into a soft golden light) I speak for the trees. And today, Once-ler… so do you.
