I gaze at your beauty
I marvel at your grace
But I can't allow you
To look at my face.

If I take off my mask
It'll happen again
You'll run away screaming
And I'll be left in pain

I simply am that, a monster
With an angel's sweet voice
God's irony upon me
It wasn't my choice.

My own father spurned me
My mother would ask
That everyday she saw me
I would wear this mask.

What will happen when I die?
Will the world sing my praise?
Or will I be long forgotten,
Buried in an unmarked grave?

Your love is worth more to me
Than diamonds, emeralds and gold
Worth more to me than music
Your smile won't let me feel cold.

If beauty is hidden under the skin
And the cause Cupid's love bolt drew
Then I am a living example
And I beg you to see that it's true.

If true love is blind
And lovers cannot see,
Dear, sweet Christine,
Send love, not pity, to me.