Andrew Lloyd Webber — What a Dreadful Town...

RAOUL: 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 - ? GUSTAVE: Father dear, come play with me Come and see this toy I've got - RAOUL: What a snub 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 It's an utter disgrace (I've got a mind to pack and go. Never you mind the debts we own! Who would believe we've sunk this low?) GUSTAVE: Father please, come play with me - RAOUL: (Please tell the boy the answer's no!) [CHRISTINE softly plays the piano] RAOUL: (Must you make that racket?) CHRISTINE: (It's the aria I'm to sing tonight - ) RAOUL: (It hurts my head!) CHRISTINE: Please, let's not fight, dear I'm sure that no one intended a slight, dear RAOUL: Don't you patronize me! It's your fault we came here! CHRISTINE: We need the money, that's all That's why things haven't been right, dear RAOUL: Why doesn't it surprise me That I get the blame here? CHRISTINE: Let's leave tonight, dear If that would serve to ease Your troubled mind Leave the hurt behind GUSTAVE: Father dear, come over here And look at what they gave to me Wind the top and, Father, see Look, it plays a melody [GUSTAVE's toy plays a melodic tune.] RAOUL: (I need some air.) CHRISTINE: (Raoul, please...) RAOUL: (Please, what?) CHRISTINE: Nothing, nothing, only... Raoul...don't drink anymore...) GUSTAVE: Father never plays with me Doesn't he love me?