The priestly fathers love to laugh at Quasimodo

They said he was a dirty broken gypsy boy, who climbed like a monkey

These priests in their black robes, jewels and gold crucifix lusted after young Esmeralda

Her wild gypsy eyes flashed and she kicked and she tore and she screamed

Magically  Quasimodo lifted Esmeralda into the heavens above

The bells of Notre Dame which had so deafened dear Quasimodo

Hymned Esmeralda and she knew her gypsy soul was no longer hers alone

The priestly fathers knew how blood smelt in the sun and their minions hunted these absconders

Quasimodo knew the walls of Notre Dame would hide them and they lived in the heights with wild abandon

For a time Esmetalda and Quasimodo knew what it was to be happy so far above

Unlike those priestly fathers who loved to see a hanging and watch a firecart burn the flesh of heretics

Esmeralda didn't judge Quasimodo by his deformities, she pitied his broken body but loved his soaring soul

And now, long after the fathers' bodies have rotted and turned to dust

The wild eyes of these two gypsy souls still shine down on us.