Chenice: I’d like to find the right words. Hidden inside a song. I’d like serenade you But it would come out wrong. Maybe you won’t believe me But singing's not my style Because I'm so afraid you Might just laugh and run a mile I can’t sing, I can’t sing Open my throat and windows start crack, I thought a quaver was a cheese based snack I can’t sing, I can’t sing There’s a millions songs I have mangled, Every note in my throat just gets tangled Sounding more like a cat being strangled, by its own ball of string; I can’t sing, I can’t sing I can’t sing, I can’t sing I can just heard the crowd call out for less Flat as a pancake in a trouser press I can’t sing, I can’t sing Don’t know how my poor granddaddy stuck it I can’t carry a tune in a bucket Anybody ‘ll tell you I suck, it’s the god damndest thing I can’t sing, I can’t sing It’s a tough handicap I can’t sing I can’t even rap (break it down y’all) I can’t dance, it’s too bad I move worse than a white boys dad. I can’t tweet, I can’t blog I look rough as a rover’s dog I can’t do anything, worst of all I just can’t sing!
Max: I need to break it too you Unaware as you are You have the voice of angels You’re born to be a star You are the kind of girl that, but anyone would love Such style, grace and beauty These are gifts from up above You can sing, you can sing
Chenice: Had no idea I didn’t think I could, I thought I made Geri Halliwell sound good
Max: You can sing, you can sing
Chenice: If you say so, maybe I can hack it If it’s not such a god awful racket
Max: Don’t forget that you could win a packet I can just hear, ‘cha ching’
Chenice: It’s my granddaddy’s dream I’m fulfilling Love is strong, even death cannot kill it And ill rise out of this, should god will it I got something to bring I can sing, I can sing I can Sing