Not another word my son,
There’s something now that must be done.
You’ve spoken from the heart
And I must do the same
There is a story, sir,
Of slavery and shame
That you alone must know.
I never told Cosette
She had enough of tears
She’s never known the truth-
The story you must hear
Of years ago.
There lived a man whose name was Jean Valjean
He stole some bread to save his sister’s son.
For nineteen winters served his time
In sweat he washed away his crime.
He broke parole and lived a life apart
How could he tell Cosette and break her heart?
It’s for Cosette this must be faced
If he is caught she is disgraced
The time has come to journey on
And from this day he must be gone
Who am I?
Who am I?
You’re Jean Valjean!
What can I do
That will turn you from this?
Monsieur, you cannot leave.
Whatever I tell my beloved Cosette
She will never believe!
Make her believe
I have gone on a journey
A long way away.
Tell her my heart was too full for farewells
It is better this way.
Promise me, M’sieur, Cosette will never know…
I give my word.
…what I have spoken, why I must go.
For the sake of Cosette, it must be so.