Songtexte What A Dreadful Town!... - Andrew Lloyd Webber

What a dreadful town
What a vulgar place
What an awful mistake to have come here

To be on display
In that shameless way
For the crude common lower class scum here

How do they dare to treat us so?

Father dear
Come play with
Come and see this toy I bought

What a slum at most
From our so-called host
Did he think sending freaks would be funny?
Could the fool have thought
That our pride was bought
By his filthy American money

What a farce! What an outright slap in the face!
An utter disgrace!
I've got a mind to pack and go!
Never you mind the debts we owe!
Who would have thought we'd sunk this low

Father dear, come play with me

Gustave enough, the answer's no!

(Gustave Plays a Song on the Piano)

Must you play now?

I think it's beautiful

What is it?

I don't know! It was just here on the piano

Well it hurts my head!

Please let's not fight dear
I'm sure Mr. Hammerstein never intended a slight dear

How dare you patronize me?
We should never have accepted

We need the money
That's all
That's why things haven't been right dear

Why doesn't it surprise me that I get the blame here?

Let's leave tonight dear
If it would serve to ease your troubled mind
Leave the hurt behind

Father dear, come over here
And look at what they gave to me
Wind it up and father see
Look it plays a melody

Raoul...

What's this?

(A doorman arrives with a note)

What is it?

It's from Hammerstein. He wants to meet me in the hotel bar, alone.
Well, he may lack courtesy,
but he does show a certain
savoir-faire in choosing a business rendezvous.

Raoul, please...

Please what?

Nothing

Father never plays with me
Doesn't he love me?

Oh, darling!