Grace McLean feat. Denée Benton & Brittain Ashford -
Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812 (Original Broadway Cast Recording)
In My House
You shamless, good-for-nothing
You vile shamless girl
In my house, in my house
A nice girl, very nice
You dirty, nasty, wench of a thing
Now don't you say one word
In my house, in my house
Horrid girl, hussy
It's lucky for him he escaped, but I'll find him
Now you listen to me when I speak to you
Now you listen to me when I speak to you!
In my house!
In my house!
Do you hear what I'm sayin or not?
Natasha's whole body shook
With noiseless, convulsive sounds
Marya touched her hand to her face
Don't touch me!
Let me be!
What is it to me? I shall die
What are we to tell your father, eh?
In my house, in my house
What are we to tell Prince Andrey, eh?
Oh what do we tell your betrothed?
I have no betrothed!
I have refused him
Natasha, come here, kiss me
Press your wet face to mine
Don't touch me!
Why didn't he come to the house?
Why didn't he openly ask for your hand?
You are not kept under lock and key
Carrying you off like some gypsy girl!
And if he had carried you off, don't you think your father would have found him?
Your father, I know him
He will challenge him to a duel, and what then?
Will that be all right, eh?
He's a scoundrel
He's a wretch! That's a fact
He is better than any of you, I say
He is better than any of you, I say
Why did you interfere, oh God, what is it all?
What is it?
Who are you to tell me anything?
Sonya, why?
Go away!
Everyone, go away!
Marya Dmitryevna tried to speak again, but Natasha cried out
Go away! Go away!
You all hate and despise me!
And she threw herself down on the sofa
Natasha!
Natalya
I put a pillow under her head
Covered her with two quilts
Poured her a glass of lime-flower water
But Natasha did not respond
Well, let her sleep
Let her sleep
But Natasha was not asleep
Her face was pale
Her eyes wide open
All that night
She did not sleep or weep
She sat at the window
Waiting for him
You vile shamless girl
In my house, in my house
A nice girl, very nice
You dirty, nasty, wench of a thing
Now don't you say one word
In my house, in my house
Horrid girl, hussy
It's lucky for him he escaped, but I'll find him
Now you listen to me when I speak to you
Now you listen to me when I speak to you!
In my house!
In my house!
Do you hear what I'm sayin or not?
Natasha's whole body shook
With noiseless, convulsive sounds
Marya touched her hand to her face
Don't touch me!
Let me be!
What is it to me? I shall die
What are we to tell your father, eh?
In my house, in my house
What are we to tell Prince Andrey, eh?
Oh what do we tell your betrothed?
I have no betrothed!
I have refused him
Natasha, come here, kiss me
Press your wet face to mine
Don't touch me!
Why didn't he come to the house?
Why didn't he openly ask for your hand?
You are not kept under lock and key
Carrying you off like some gypsy girl!
And if he had carried you off, don't you think your father would have found him?
Your father, I know him
He will challenge him to a duel, and what then?
Will that be all right, eh?
He's a scoundrel
He's a wretch! That's a fact
He is better than any of you, I say
He is better than any of you, I say
Why did you interfere, oh God, what is it all?
What is it?
Who are you to tell me anything?
Sonya, why?
Go away!
Everyone, go away!
Marya Dmitryevna tried to speak again, but Natasha cried out
Go away! Go away!
You all hate and despise me!
And she threw herself down on the sofa
Natasha!
Natalya
I put a pillow under her head
Covered her with two quilts
Poured her a glass of lime-flower water
But Natasha did not respond
Well, let her sleep
Let her sleep
But Natasha was not asleep
Her face was pale
Her eyes wide open
All that night
She did not sleep or weep
She sat at the window
Waiting for him
Credits
Writer(s): David Bisbal Ferre, Jose Miguel Velasquez
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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