Good times and bum times, I've seen them all, and, my dear,
I'm still here.
Plush velvet sometimes, sometimes just pretzels and beer,
but I'm here.
I've stuffed the dailies in my shoes,
strummed ukuleles, sung the blues.
Seen all my dreams disappear,
but I'm here.
I've slept in shanties, guest of the W.P.A.,
and I'm here.
Danced in my scanties, three bucks a night was the pay,
and I'm here.
I've stood on bread lines with the best,
watched while the headlines did the rest.
In the depression was I depressed? Nowhere near.
I met a big financier,
and I'm here.
I've been through Gandhi, Windsor and Wally's affair,
and I'm here.
Amos 'n' Andy, mah-jongg and platinum hair,
and I'm here.
I got through Abie's Irish Rose, five Dionne babies, Major Bowes,
Had heebie-jeebies for Beebe's Bathysphere.
I got through Shirley Temple,
and I'm here
I've gotten through Herbert and J. Edgar Hoover;
gee, that was fun and a half!
When you've been through Herbert and J. Edgar Hoover,
anything else is a laugh.
I've been through Reno, I've been through Beverly Hills,
and I'm here.
Reefers and vino, rest cures, religion and pills,
but I'm here.
Been called a "pinko-commie tool," got through it stinko by my pool.
I should've gone to an acting school, that seems clear.
Still, someone said, "She's sincere,"
so I'm here.
Black sable one day, next day it goes into hock,
but I'm here.
Top billing Monday, Tuesday you're touring in stock,
but I'm here.
First you're another sloe-eyed vamp, then someone's mother, then you're camp;
then you career from career to career.
I'm almost through my memoirs,
and I'm here.
I've gotten through "Hey, lady, aren't you whoozis?
Wow, what a looker you were."
Or better yet, "Sorry, I thought you were whoozis;
Whatever happened to her?"
Good times and bum times, I've seen 'em all, and, my dear,
I'm still here.
Plush velvet sometimes, sometimes just pretzels and beer,
but I'm here.
I've run the gamut, A to Z;
three cheers and, dammit, c'est la vie.
I got through all of last year,
and I'm here.
Lord knows, at least I've been there, and I'm here.
Look who's here.
I'm still here.
About This Song
"I'm Still Here" is a defiant anthem of survival that captures the essence of American resilience through the voice of an aging performer who has weathered decades of hardship and triumph. Written for the character Carlotta Campion in Sondheim's *Follies*, the song chronicles a showgirl's journey from the Great Depression through multiple eras of American entertainment, using specific cultural references and slang from each decade to create a vivid tapestry of lived experience. The lyrics reveal a woman who has endured poverty, exploitation, and countless disappointments-sleeping in government housing, dancing for meager pay, standing in breadlines-yet maintains an almost fierce pride in her survival. Sondheim's musical structure mirrors this resilience, building from a conversational, almost bitter recollection to a triumphant declaration of endurance. The song operates on multiple levels: it's simultaneously a personal testament to one woman's tenacity, a broader commentary on the disposability of performers (particularly women) in show business, and a meditation on what it means to persist when dreams have been systematically crushed. The repeated phrase "I'm still here" becomes both a battle cry and a quiet miracle, transforming mere survival into an act of rebellion against a world that would prefer to forget her. The song resonated deeply with audiences because it speaks to anyone who has felt overlooked or discarded, offering not false comfort but the harder truth that sometimes simply enduring is its own form of victory.
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