No One Mourns the Wicked

Good news, the Witch, she's dead

Come out, come out, she's gone

Good news

She's dead

The Witch of the West is dead

The wickedest witch there ever was

The enemy of all of us here in Oz is dead

Good news

Good news

Look, it's Glinda

Let us be glad

Let us be grateful

Let us rejoicify that goodness could subdue

The wicked workings of you-know-who

Isn't it nice to know?

That good will conquеr evil?

The truth we all bеlieve'll by and by

Outlive a lie

For you and

No one mourns the Wicked

No one cries, "They won't return"

No one lays a lily on their grave

The good man scorns the Wicked

Through their lives, our children learn

What we miss

When we misbehave

And goodness knows

The Wicked's lives are lonely

Goodness knows

The Wicked die alone

It just shows, when you're wicked

You're left only on your own

Yes, goodness knows

The Wicked's lives are lonely

Goodness knows

The Wicked cry alone

Nothing grows for the wicked

They reap only what they've sown

Miss Glinda, why does Wickedness happen?

That's a good question, one many people find confusifying

Are people born Wicked?

Or do they have Wickedness thrust upon them?

After all, the Wicked Witch had a childhood

She had a father, who by the way, had been appointed Governor of Munchkinland

I'm off to the assembly, dear

And she had a mother, as so many do

How I hate to go and leave you lonely

That's alright, it's only just one night

But know that you're here in my heart when I'm out of your sight

Like every family, they had their secrets

Have another drink, my dark eyed beauty

I've got one more night left here in town

So have another drink of green elixir

And we'll have ourselves a little mixer

Have another little swallow, little lady

And follow me down

And one thing led to another, as it so often does

But from the moment she was born, she was, well, different

It's coming

Now?

The baby's coming

Oh, and how

I see a nose

I see a curl

It's a healthy, perfect

Lovely, little

Sweet Oz

What is it?

What's wrong?

How can it be?

What does it mean?

It's uncanny

It's obscene

Like a froggy, ferny cabbage

The baby is unnaturally

Green

Take it away, take it away

And so, it couldn't have been easy

No one mourns the Wicked

Now, at last, she's dead and gone

Now at last, there's joy throughout the land

And Goodness knows (And Goodness knows)

We know what Goodness is (Oh-oh-ooh)

Goodness knows

The Wicked die alone

She died alone

Woe to those (Woe to those)

Who spurn what Goodnesses

They are shown

No one mourns the Wicked

Good news

No one mourns the Wicked

Good news

No one mourns the Wicked

Wicked

Wicked