They call me a damsel in distress
'cause I want my prize
The one with the kingdom and the big brown eyes
The one with the voice that can boom like music
Oh my, oh my, does he know how to use it
I'm not playin' with ya
He looks into your eyes
Knows what to say to ya
He's so beautiful that's the consensus
I'll bet the crown jewels I will be his princess
I like him for his smile
I like him for his hair
I like him for his style
I like him 'cause he's so debonair
He's my trophy boy, my trophy boy, my trophy boy
I want him for myself
I want to lock him down
I want that ring on my finger
Like I want that crown
He's my trophy boy, my trophy boy, my trophy boy
And he's so vicious, so totally runway
And I know I wasn't listening but he's totally funny
And I don't even care if he ever makes a sound
Just as long as when you see me he's around
and he's bound to me
He's like my glass slipper
He fits me so good
And he's such a good tipper
And you could sing along if you like
For the only known man who looks tough in tights
I like him for his smile
I like him for his hair
I like him for his style
I like him cause he's so debonair
He's my trophy boy, my trophy boy, my trophy boy
I want him for myself
I want to lock him down
I want that ring on my finger
Like I want that crown
He's my trophy boy, my trophy boy, my trophy boy
And it's not just about his looks,
he's also got a sensitive side
He has the soul of a poet
If you give it the time
And he's a perfect gentleman,
Class and etiquette
Oh, who am I kidding,
he just got such excellent abs
You can't compete with those fellas (with such class)
Make the whole kingdom jealous (oh man)
I just forget my manners
Hello I'm Cinderella and I need a wedding planner
I like him for his smile
I like him for his hair
I like him for his style
I like him cause he's so debonair
He's my trophy boy, my trophy boy, my trophy boy
I want him for myself
I want to lock him down
I want that ring on my finger
Like I want that crown
He's my trophy boy, my trophy boy, my trophy boy
Oh-oh-oh my gosh,
Oh my fairy godmother
Won't you call this boy's mama
and tell her that I love her
I like him for his smile
I like him for his hair
I like him for his style
I like him cause he's so debonair
He's my trophy boy, my trophy boy, my trophy boy
I want him for myself
I want to lock him down
I want that ring on my finger
Like I want that crown
He's my trophy boy, my trophy boy, my trophy boy
My little trophy boy, yeah!