Chenice:
I’d like to find the right words.
Hidden inside a song.
I’d like serenade you
But it would come out wrong.
Maybe you won’t believe me
But singing's not my style
Because I'm so afraid you
Might just laugh and run a mile
I can’t sing, I can’t sing
Open my throat and windows start crack,
I thought a quaver was a cheese based snack
I can’t sing, I can’t sing
There’s a millions songs I have mangled,
Every note in my throat just gets tangled
Sounding more like a cat being strangled, by its own ball of string;
I can’t sing, I can’t sing
I can’t sing, I can’t sing
I can just heard the crowd call out for less
Flat as a pancake in a trouser press
I can’t sing, I can’t sing
Don’t know how my poor granddaddy stuck it
I can’t carry a tune in a bucket
Anybody ‘ll tell you I suck, it’s the god damndest thing
I can’t sing, I can’t sing
It’s a tough handicap
I can’t sing I can’t even rap (break it down y’all)
I can’t dance, it’s too bad
I move worse than a white boys dad.
I can’t tweet, I can’t blog
I look rough as a rover’s dog
I can’t do anything, worst of all I just can’t sing!

Max:
I need to break it too you
Unaware as you are
You have the voice of angels
You’re born to be a star
You are the kind of girl that, but anyone would love
Such style, grace and beauty
These are gifts from up above
You can sing, you can sing

Chenice:
Had no idea I didn’t think I could,
I thought I made Geri Halliwell sound good

Max:
You can sing, you can sing

Chenice:
If you say so, maybe I can hack it
If it’s not such a god awful racket

Max:
Don’t forget that you could win a packet
I can just hear, ‘cha ching’

Chenice:
It’s my granddaddy’s dream I’m fulfilling
Love is strong, even death cannot kill it
And ill rise out of this, should god will it
I got something to bring
I can sing, I can sing
I can
Sing