Her voice box makes all us greener
than standbys who lie in wait.
We know that she’ll hit it up there.
Precise note is up to fate.
Just look at the score as written
right there on her music stand.
Looks like for the highs she’s smitten.
Looks like she can’t get canned.

Over the C.
Over the C.
She thinks it’s better
to hit the next letter.
Goes for a D.
Playin’ this show at twice a day.
Says there’s no need to slave away.
So she’s devotin’
her pipes to floatin’ over the C.

I hear all the fans are happy:
“We swear that she’s on a roll.”
The critics although ain’t happy
with her in the green girl role.
The green girl role is lucky
and certainly worth the wait.
Win over the folks with Grammys
and then, hey, the show is great.

Over the C.
Over the C.
Nobody matches
trills she attaches
in NYC.
Wicked’s a show I hate to love.
Something I should stay above.
Supposedly trouble.
Burst Glinda’s bubble.
Over the C.
Over the C.
Elphie is sweet though.
She keeps a beat so
naturally.
Even Miss Kristen, by the way
Can get real p*ssed and want more pay.
Still I revere her.
You’ve got here her
over the C.

Maureen is obscene.
The Wife got no life.
Kesa’s a messa:
she killed with a knife.
A lass loud as brass.
She tops and show stops.
She got class and sass and soul.

The Prayer: I don’t care.
She sings o’er strings
about rockin’ out.
Her anger mode stings.
Dressed up as a cat.
Knows where it’s at.
And just look at Miss Elphie go…

over the C.
Over the C.
Green as a lizard.
Mad at the Wizard.
It’s music to me.
She’s also got a Tony now.
Do not know why but only how.
Still, if it’s hammin’,
it gets fans jammin’.
Over the C.
The Times, they did slug her,
but they don’t bug her.
Over the C.
Each little munchkin
had their own truncheon.
That’s when Doss got her:
splashed her with water.
She stays alive an’
with pipes survivin’
over the C.