I was privileged to see Follies in its initial Broadway run three times, including the most memorable and emotional closing night I have ever spent in a Broadway theatre. Follies remains my favorite Sondheim musical (and Sondheim remains my favorite Broadway composer) even though I admit that those who consider Sweeney Todd his masterpiece certainly have good reasons for doing so. The Follies "highlight" original cast album - funny it wasn't released that way - it was released simply as "the cast album" - is a bittersweet experience; to this day, I regret as do other reviewers here that the producers could not see their way to releasing a two-disc complete recording. It's not so much the numbers that were completely left out as the songs that were butchered and cut to their bare essentials that one regrets most. I can live without "Loveland", but the loss of almost half of the lyrics to "I'm Still Here" and "Broadway Baby" are omissions that have puzzled me since the day this abortion of a cast album (as my ex-boyfriend called it at the time) was released. Although most of this has already been said, the main reason I wanted to add my two-cents was to trumpet the song that for some reason is one of the least mentioned but, for me, the most impressive. "Too Many Mornings' is, to me, both lyrically and musically the most touching, heartbreaking and emotionally potent song that Mr. Sondheim ever wrote. The sentiment behind the lyric is one that makes me literally choke up with tears and is still capable - 34 years after I first heard it - of making me break out in goose bumps. "Two many mornings, waking and pretending I reach for you, thousands of mornings, dreaming of my girl. All that time, wasted, merely passing through, time I could have spent, so content, wasting time with you..." To me, this song captured the essence of what the show was really about - the heartache of waking up one day, irreversibly older, and finding that you didn't do with your life anything that you dreamed of or idealized in your younger days. As I recall John McMartin remarking on a TV talk show just a few days after Follies ended it's Broadway run, "It's a very painful, tragic show to watch unfold, and the more I am privileged to work with this material, the more I get out of it". The deceptively simple book of this show masked the powerful emotional punch of all that it really had to say. I understood when I was 17 (which I was in 1971) that this was a melancholy and achingly poignant show; time has only deepened and expanded the emotional experience that this recording grants with every listen.