Belle:
Papa, do you think I'm...odd?
Maurice:
My daughter odd? Where did you get an idea like that?
Belle:
I don't know. It's just that, well, people talk.
Maurice:
They talk about me, too.
Maurice:
No, we're not odd, its true
No fam'ly ever saner
Except one uncle who...well, maybe let that pass
In all you say or do
You couldn't make it plainer
You are your mother's daughter; therefore you are class
Belle:
So I should just accept
I'm simply not like them
Maurice:
They are the common herd
And you should take my word
You are unique: creme de la creme
No matter what you do
I'm on your side
And if my point of view
Is somewhat...
continue reading...