Daddy always thought that he married beneath him That's what he said, that's what he said When he proposed he informed my mother He was probably her very last chance And though she was twenty-two Though she was twenty-two Though she was twenty-two She married him
Life with my dad wasn't ever a picnic More like a "come as you are, " When I was five I remember my mother Dug earrings out of the car I knew they weren't hers, but it wasn't Something you'd want to discuss He wasn't warm Well, not to her Well, not to us
But everything was beautiful at the ballet Graceful men lift lovely girls in white Yes, everything was beautiful at ballet Hey! I was happy at the ballet
Up a steep and very narrow stairway
To the voice like a metronome
Up a steep and very narrow stairway
It wasn't paradise
It wasn't paradise
It wasn't paradise
But it was home Mother always said I'd be very attractive When I grew up, when I grew up "diff'rent, " she said, "with a special something And a very, very personal flair. " And though I was eight or nine Though I was eight or nine Though I was eight or nine I hated her Now, "diff'rent" is nice, but it sure isn't pretty "pretty" is what it's about I never met anyone who was "diff'rent" Who couldn't figure that out So beautiful I'd never lived to see But it was clear If not to her Well, then to me
That everyone is beautiful at the ballet
Every prince has got to have his swan
Isabelle, santana, rachel & kurt Yes, everyone is beautiful at the ballet