(harnick/bock)

Alone in the world was poor little anne

As sweet a young child as you'd find

Her parents had gone to their final reward

Leaving their baby behind



Did you hear this poor little child

Was only nine years of age

When mother and dad went away

Still she bravely worked

At the one thing she knew

To earn a few pennies a day



She made artificial flowers, artificial flowers

Flowers for ladies of fashion to wear

She made artificial flowers, artificial flowers

Fashioned from annie's despair



With papers and shears, with wire and wax

She made up each tulip and mum

As snow flakes drifted in to her tenement room

Her baby little fingers grew numb



>from artificial flowers, those artificial flowers

Flowers for ladies of high fashion to wear

She made artificial flowers, artificial flowers

Made from annie's despair



And they found little annie all covered with ice

Still clutching her poor frozen shears

Amidst all the blossoms, she had fashioned by hand

And watered with all her young tears



There must be a heaven where little annie can play

In heavenly gardens and bowers

And instead of halo, she'll wear round her head

A garland of genuine flowers



No more artificial flowers, artificial flowers

Flowers for ladies of society to wear

Those artificial flowers, artificial flowers

Fashioned from annie's

Fashioned from annie's despair