infinite
then there is no music you can play
You're sitting on the wrong bench
That's God's piano
Christ, did you see the streets?
Just the streets.
There were thousands of them
How do you do it down there?
How do you choose just one?
One woman
One house
One piece of land to call your own
one landscape to look at
one way to die?
All that world
just weighing down on you
You don't even know
where it comes to an end
I mean, aren't you ever
just scared of
breaking apart
at the thought of it?
At the enormity of living it?
I was born on this ship
And the world passed my by
But two thousand people at a time
And there were wishes here
But never more than
fit between prow and stern
You played out your happiness, but
on a piano that was not infinite
I learned to live that way
Land?
Land is a ship too big for me
It's a woman too beautiful
It's a voyage too long
perfume too strong
It's music I don't know how to make
I could never get off this ship
At best
I can step off my life
After all
I don't exist for anyone
You're the exception, Max
You're the only one
who knows I'm here
You're a minority
And you'd better get used to it
Forgive me, my friend
but I'm not getting off
Hey, Max
Picture the scene
at the Golden Gates
Some guy searching a list trying to
find my name, not finding it
What did you say
your name was again?
Nineteen Hundred
Niemann, Nightingale, Ninestock...
Nittledeen?
Well, you see, sir
I was born on a ship
Beg your pardon?
Born, raised, and died on a ship
Maybe I'm not registered there
Shipwreck?
Six and a half tons of dynamite
Boom
Feeling better now?
Yeah, I'm fine except I lost an arm
An arm?
Yes, in the explosion
Well, you should be able to
find one over there
Which one did you say
you were missing?
Left, sir
I'm dreadfully sorry
we only seem to have two rights
Two right arms?
Afraid so
Would you mind awfully if...
If I want?
Well, if you take a right arm
instead of a left?
Well, all things considered better
a right arm than nothing, I suppose
Couldn't agree more
No laughing matter, Max
What a cock-up
Spend eternity with two right arms?
I mean, how would you
make the sign of the cross?
Hey, Max
Imagine the music
I could play with two right arms
Hope I can find a piano up there
What would you have done
in my shoes?
I don't know
I wouldn't probably
have felt quite useless
Sooner or later, all stories end
and there's nothing left to add
Anyhow, thanks, pops
Conn
There's just one thing I don't get
Who hid the broken record
inside the piano?
You're looking at him
So you weren't so useless after all
Conn
Here
Take your trumpet
Well, you'll be needing it
Never mind the money
A good story's worth
more than an old trumpetI still ask myself
if I did the right thing
when I abandoned his floating city
And I don't mean only for the work
fact is, a friend like that
a real friend
you won't meet one again
If you just decide to
hang up your sea legs
if you just want to feel something
more solid beneath your feet
and if then you no loner hear
the music of the gods around you
But, like he used to say
You're never really done for
as long as you got a good story
and someone to tell it to
Trouble is
nobody'd believe
a single word of my story
It happened every time
Someone would look up and see her
It's difficult to understand
There'd be more than
a thousand of us on that ship
Traveling rich folks, immigrants
and strange people, and us
Yet there was always one
One guy alone
who would see her first
Maybe he was just sitting there
eating or walking on the deck
Maybe he was just fixing his pants
He'd look up for a second. A quick
glance out to sea and he'd see her
Then he'd just stand there rooted
to the spot, his heart racing
And every time
every damn time, I swear
he'd turn to us, towards the ship
towards everybody and scream
America
The Legend of 1900
New York
The one who sees America