ISABELLA: Love is strange, and sometimes kind of gross.
It's embarrassingly gassy.
And it leaves its dirty underwear
In piles around the place.
Love is rude.
It has a sort of smell.
And it thinks that you don't notice.
And it blurts out things that make you want to smack its stupid face.
And it's awkward and confusing
It annoys you half to death.
Then it grins that dopey grin
And you can't catch your breath.
GALAVANT: Love is strange, and sometimes sort of smug.
And it's really, really bossy.
And it messes with your head
'Til you're a hopeless basket case.
ISABELLA: And it's stubborn—
GALAVANT: It's insulting—
ISABELLA: It's obnoxious—
GALAVANT: It's the worst
ISABELLA/GALAVANT: You keep pushing it away
And you fall in headfirst.
Love is strange!
ISABELLA: And often pretty drunk.
GALAVANT: It looks different without makeup.
ISABELLA/GALAVANT: And it's nothing like the fairy tales
You grow up dreaming of.
GALAVANT: Love is weird...
ISABELLA: Love is dumb...
ISABELLA/GALAVANT: Love is strange...
And that's what makes it love.

SUBMIT CORRECTIONS