Belle:
Papa, do Ты think I'm...odd?
Maurice:
My daughter odd? Where did Ты 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 Ты say или do
You couldn't make it plainer
You are your mother's daughter; therefore Ты are class
Belle:
So I should just accept
I'm simply not like them
Maurice:
They are the common herd
And Ты should take my word
You are unique: creme de la creme
No matter what Ты do
I'm on your side
And if my point of view
Is somewhat...
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