American Old Time Song Lyrics: 47 Cinderella Song

Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 47

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Copyright, 1894, by T. B. Harms & Co.
Words by J. Cheever Goodwin. Music by Woolson Morse.

Oh, poor Cinderella was a maid forlorn,
With two proud sisters as beautiful as day,
Who snubbed her and treated her with utmost scorn,
In a highly unbecoming way.
Go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, we pray;
In silks and in satins, at the king's behest,
To the royal ball they gaily drove away;
While poor Cinderella, who in rags was dressed,
Was told that she at home must stay;
But soon her fairy god mamma
Appeared, and by her magic wand,
Clad her in garments richer far
Than mortal e'er had donned.

Oh, weren't her sisters spiteful, and wouldn't a be delightful
If we could have a godmamma like poor, dear Cinderella;
Some kind-hearted fairy, when things went contrary.
To do the thing that was rightful, with a magic wand
She'd but to wave to give us all we might crave;
Oh, don't we wish that our godmamma was a big, big, big, big fairy.

Arrayed, like a princess, in her garments fine,
With jewels bright, Cinderella now appears;
Her eyes, with astonishment and pleasure, shine.
That a moment since were dim with tears.
Go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, we pray;
Her godmother next supplies the coach she needs
From a pumpkin huge, Cinderella thinks it strange;
A wave of her wand, and in a trice, its seeds
To a coachman and a footman change;
Then six white mice within a trap,
To Cinderella's great amaze,
She quickly changes, by a tap,
To prancing dappled grays.

Oh, wasn't she sagacious; we wish, to goodness gracious,
That we could have a "turn-out" grand like poor, dear Cinderella;
When we took an airing, setting people staring:
Oh, that would be just Splendacious; you can he quite sure
We'd make our mark, as we tooled through street and park;
Oh, don't we wish that our god mamma was a big, big, big, big fairy.

When once Cinderella at the ball appears,
The prince falls head over heals, with her, in love;
In vain are her jealous sisters' sneers and jeers,
For he finds her fair as stars above:
Go on, go on, go on, go on, no on, we pray;
To her he devotes himself the evening through;
When she left at twelve, as the fairy said she ought,
And dropped, in her hasty flight, her dainty shoe,
For its owner far and near he sought;
To prove to him the shoe was theirs,
In vain the naughty sisters tried;
"'Tis Cinderella's," he declares,
And she becomes his bride.

Oh, wasn't that romantic? with joy we'd all go frantic
If we could only find a prince like poor, dear Cinderella;
For our hand to sue us, and to sweetly woo us,
Oh, that would be just gigantic; we would grow at least

A foot with pride if he chose us for his bride;
Oh, don't we wish that our godmamma was a big, big, big, big fairy.
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