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