What a Disaster
Emily Blunt

[sung]
Oh my dear Andy, what have you done?
Your fashion sense is a total con!
Those shoes? Please, they tell no tales,
Like poorly written fairy tales!

[sung]
You think you're ready for that Vogue runway?
But honey, you’re lost like a dog gone astray,
This outfit’s a mess, a travesty of taste,
In a world of haute couture, you’re completely displaced!

[spoken]
But let’s break it down, oh I can’t bear to see,
Your sad little attempt at haute couture wannabe.

[sung]
Look at that bag, it’s just so passé,
As if it shouted, “Please don’t look my way!”
And those nails, are they meant to be seen?
I’d rather wear scissors than that garish sheen!

[sung]
Oh sweetie, I just can’t take this charade,
Fashion faux pas in every crusade,
Remember that time? In Paris, we shined,
Your look was a joke, even Miranda whined!

[spoken]
Please, darling, take notes, this career’s on the line:
If you can’t pull it together, how will you ever climb?

[sung]
You walk into rooms like a deer in the headlights,
While I serve looks that ignite fashion fights,
Your style’s a disaster, as clear as the skies,
I thought you had vision, not just sad alibis!

[sung]
So let’s get to work, I’ll teach you with flair,
How to rock that runway without a single care,
Let’s banish these outfits, we’ll reboot your whole vibe,
After all, Andy, it’s time for your true tribe!

[spoken]
So, grab my heels and watch me shine bright,
I’m Emily, darling, and we’re taking flight!

[sung]
Together we’ll conquer, the fashion elite,
But first, own the image, don’t admit defeat!
Now take a deep breath, and embrace the glare,
Because just like Miranda, you’ll learn to dare!