I remember the night they came to bring me the bad news—
Dire tidings from the monkeybats.
And I couldn't believe what they said,
I wouldn't believe she was gone,
Taken out by some country bumpkin BRAT!
In the silent sadness of loss I'm trying not to scream
As my world melts away like the girl of my dreams.
And it seems that falling apart at the seams is
De rigueur for all the days stretching ahead of me....

I've been asking why you had it in for my spooky girl
Who's only sin was being slightly odd.
OK, so she was awfully damn strange.
But in this world she was real
Unlike you, "The Great and Powerful" fraud.
What's with the ax to grind that drives your angsty little agenda?
Was it 'cause you couldn't score with Glinda?
Whatever the reason may be, you've taken something from me
And replaced it with a gaping hole that grows....

I hate you for the way you took her away from me.
I hate you for the promises she couldn't keep.
Is it really so hard to believe that someone out there loved her?
Is it really so hard to see that the wicked one is you?

Sometimes, it feels as if a bomb went off inside
And it's still ringing in my ears.
Through my blasted heart, I feel nothing;
I have been etherized with tears.
And everyone everywhere is singing that song
That horrid tune, the one that goes, "Ding dong,
The Wicked Witch is Dead!" Now everyone gets along
Well, most of you...the rest of us write songs that go:

I hate you for the way you took her away from me.
I hate you for the promises she couldn't keep.
Is it really so hard to believe that someone out there loved her?
Is it really so hard to see that the wicked one is you?

What kind of world is this where a spineless feline conspires
With a wicker dunce and a heartless robot
And a little girl from the sky?
What a motley band of assassins
Stumbling down the yellow cobblestone road towards her home.
And I awake many nights terrified
That I'm the one they want, that I'm the next to go.

I hate you for the way you took her away from me.
I hate you for the promises she couldn't keep.
Is it really so hard to believe that someone out there loved her?
Is it really so hard to see that the wicked one is you?
I hate you, I hate Oz, I hate your Emerald City.
I don't need you or your empty and worthless pity.
I am hate, I am spite, I am the one who'll take her place—
I'd like to introduce you to the Wicked Warlock of the West!