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
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
While I’m out of your sight

And, 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

No!

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

It’s coming

Now?

The baby is coming

Oh, and how!

I see a nose

I see a curl

It’s a healthy, perfect, lovely, little—

Oh!

Oh! Sweet Oz! Oh!

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

Goodness knows

We know what Goodness is

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