Who asked me if I’d like to be at the ball?
All the town can now be found at the ball.
But not me.
All the maidens fair
in their gowns are there.
And with them gentlemen will dance
and whisper words of warm romance - aha.
Does the whole world look upon me so?
Just a ragged Cinderella,
scrubbin’ in the cellar,
dancing with my worn-out broom?