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 [bad word] le jour (she is like the day) 
Il [bad word] 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 [bad word] 

”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 [bad word] beauty cannot be seen 
And that things are most likely not what they seem