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