CHEF: If I could share my life with you,
Just think how happy we'd be.
We'd share a hovel built for two,
Complete with vermin for three.
We could while away each hopeless day
Comparing open sores.
Yes, life would blow—
But much less, though,
If I could share mine with yours.
HANDMAIDEN: No, I can't. It's impossible.
If I could share my life with you—
CHEF: Admit it, it would be nice.
HANDMAIDEN: We'd share one cot,
one chamber pot—
CHEF: Plus, trench mouth, tapeworms, and lice.
In the freezing night,
We'd cuddle tight
And sip some rancid wine.
CHEF/HANDMAIDEN: And life won't taste like human waste
If you could share yours with mine.
CHEF: We would have a dozen kids—
HANDMAIDEN: And maybe one won't die.
CHEF: Add the plague—
HANDMAIDEN: The runs—
CHEF: Invading Huns—
CHEF/HANDMAIDEN: Just think how time would fly!
If you could share your life with me.
I'd cherish ev'ry foul breath.
HANDMAIDEN: The filth—
CHEF: The rot—
HANDMAIDEN: The leprosy.
CHEF/HANDMAIDEN: The painful lingering death.
Thank the Lord our life expectancy
Is merely thirty-two!
CHEF: Yes, it would be sweet misery
If I could share it with you.
HANDMAIDEN: Yeah, it might be sweet misery…
CHEF/HANDMAIDEN: To share what's left with you.

SUBMIT CORRECTIONS