stephen flaherty – the sad tale of the beauxhommes lyrics
[storyteller]
the sad tale of the beauxhommes. a history lesson!
[storyteller]
the boy’s name was daniel. daniel
beauxhomme. a boy from another world
another people. a people descended for the french
[men]
some say…
some say…
some say…
some say…
[women]
some say…
some say…
some say…
some say…
[storyteller]
four generations past
in the time of napoleon
there came to this island
a frenchman, armand
[all]
armand!
[armand]
armand!
[stroyteller]
and he built a great fortune
and he built a grand mansion
and he wed a fine lady
so pale and so blonde
[madame armand]
armand!
[madame armand]
but armand took his pleasure
with the women who served him
black peasant girls from
the village beyond
[two women]
armand!
[storyteller]
and the loveliest one
bore the frenchman a son
such a fine peasant son
[armand]
for armand!
[woman]
a beautiful child
the pale color of coffee mixed with cream
[all]
the beautiful one, the beautiful son beauxhomme
[storyteller]
they named him:
[all]
beauxhomme
the beautiful one, the beautiful son
beauxhomme
[storyteller]
and the boy grew to be a man
and the great war began
[all]
blacks fought against french
and the hated napoleon
they fought for their island
and finally won
[men (not armand)]
we won!
we won!
[beauxhomme]
we won!
[beauxhomme]
and armand sailed for france
by the seat of his pants
driven out by his beautiful son!
[all]
the beautiful
one
the beautiful
son
beauxhomme, beauxhomme
[beauxhomme]
what was his is now mine!
the beautiful
one
the beautiful
son
beauxhomme!
[beauxhomme]
beauxhomme!
[storytellers]
but armand left behind a terrible, terrible curse
i curse my son
[armand]
i curse my only son!
[storytellers]
i curse his sons
[armand]
all of his sons!
[storytellers]
generations
[aramand]
all beauxhomme yet unborn!
[storytellers]
in advance
[armand]
your black blood will keep you forever on this island…
while your hearts yearn forever for france!
[storytellers]
the unlucky one, the unlucky son
beauxhomme, beauxhomme
from bad blood to worse
the name of the curse:
beauxhomme
the despise us for our blackness
it reminds them where they’re from
the sad, sad tale
of the beauxhomme!
beauxhomme!
[ti moune]
tonton, he needs me! without me, he’ll die!
[mama]
he will not want you, ti moune!
[ti moune]
please, mama. please tonton
give me your blessing and let me go. i will go to him!
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