La Belle Et La Bête

A long time ago, in a story so old
There was a beauty and and a beast, or so I’ve been told
They were these two strangers, two lonely souls
But it’s not what you think, no, here’s how it goes

Lets start with the Beast, he was ugly and scary
Pathetic and poor, and horribly hairy
The outside was rough, but once he smiled
You could see that he had a heart of gold inside

The Beast loved a Beauty, this pretty little thing
She was the fairest of them all, and she could dance and sing
But unlike the beast whose love shined the best
She loved herself, never cared for the rest

La Belle et la bête (the beauty and the beast)
Quelle tragédie (what a tragedy)
Elle est comme le jour (she is like the day)
Il est comme la nuit (he is like the night)
Il est amoureux (he is in love)
Elle ne se soucie pas (she doesn’t care)
Vont-ils mourir tout seule? (Will they die alone?)
On verra (We’ll see)

One day the beast found the Beauty Perfection
Sitting by the lake (making love to her reflection)
The Beast then decided that it was the time
To tell the pretty Beauty of his feelings inside

He stepped out from the shades with a flower in hand
Said bravely: My lady, the fairest in this land
I might not be a prince, but my heart beats for you!
Oh the Beauty just laughed, so cold, so cruel

You smelly old fat hairy pig, she said
You thought I could love you? I’d rather be dead!
Still laughing she turned and danced to her home
Leaving the Beast, heart-broken, alone

La Belle et la Bête

While the Beauty lives all by herself still today
The Beast learned his lesson and changed his ways
He found that true beauty cannot be seen
And that things are most likely not what they seem