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Gaston’s Soliloquy
by
Frederick Loewe
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Lyrics
She's a babe Just a babe Still cavorting in her crib Eating breakfast with a bib With her baby teeth and all her baby curls She's a tot Just a tot Good for bouncing on your knee I am positive that she Doesn't even know that boys aren't girls She's a snip Just a snip Making dreadful baby noise Having fun with all her toys Just a chickadee who needs a mother hen She's a cub, a papoose You could never turn her loose She's too infantile to take her from her pen Of course, that weekend in Trouville In spite of all her youthful zeal She was exceedingly polite And, on the whole, a sheer delight And if it wasn't joy galore Never once was she a bore That i recall No, not at all Ah, she's a child A silly child Adolescent to her toes And good heaven, how it shows Sticky thumbs are all the fingers she has got She's a child A clumsy child She's as swollen as a grape And she doesn't have a shape Were her figure hard to beat? It is not! Just a child A growing child But so backward for her years If a boy her age appears I am certain he will never go again She's a scant and a rat Doesn't know where she is at Unequipped and undesirable to men Of course, I must, in truth, confess That in that brand-new little dress She looked surprisingly mature And had a definite allure It was a shock, in fact, to me A most amazing shock to see The way it clung On one so young She's a girl A little girl Getting older, it is true Which is what they always do Till the unexpected hour When they blossom like a flower Oh, no! Oh, no! That, that
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