the abc song-i wanna be rich - musical by anthony newley and leslie bricusse lyrics
littlechap:
a*b*c*d*e*f*g
h*i*j*k*l*m*n*o*p
q*r*s*t*u*v*w
x*y*zed
1 2
a*b*c*d*e*f*g
3 4
h*i*j*k*l*m*n*o*p
5 6 7
q*r*s*t*u*v*w
8 9 10
x*y*zed
look at me**just take a look at me**
a minute ago, i didn’t know
me elbow from me…
ask just simply anyone**go and ask anyone**
they’ll tell you i was greener than the grass
ooh, what i mess i was!
yes, i’ll confess i was!
like a burbling bl**dy baby at the font!
you don’t know the half of it**
but now i just laugh at it!
’cause now i know exactly what i want
i wanna be rich, have money to burn
a thousand a week, say, would do me a turn
i’d keep it in oncers in case of a slump
i’d have stacks and stacks and the income tax
could take a running jump
i’ve have all me suits made a dozen a time
i’d buy all the best shares, provided they climb
give me half a chance, a small advance
me fingers itch to make me dirty rotten filthy stinking rich!
here, evie, hang on!
took a look at me**a quick butcher’s hook at me**
now, a minute ago i didn’t know a c*ckle from a whelk
can you imagine it? i mean, just imagine it!
fancy not knowing a c*ckle from a whelk!
oh, what a nitt i was! yes, i’ll admit i was!
like a sloppy, floppy puppy with a ball
and then, without reason or rhyme**
i was chatting this bird at the time**
i heard a sort of voice within me call
i wanna be rich and have a big house
with hundreds of acres and pheasants and grouse
an american car as long as the street;
and the local birds’ll be lost for words**
it’ll knock them off their feet
(women drivers!)
i wanna be famous and be in the news
go out with a film star whenever i choose
gimme half a chance to lead a dance
with some rich b*tch
and i’ll be dirty rotten filthy stinking rich!
here, eve, hang on! evie, wait for us! eve…evie!
i wanna be rich and mix with the n0bs
and sit in the best seats with all of the sn0bs
i may go to ascot to take in the scene
in me grey top hat and me spats and that
i’d be comp’ny for the queen
i wanna go trav’ling to cannes and capri**
the french riv*i*er*i*a is my cup of tea
gimme half a chance in the south of france
to make my pitch
and i’ll be dirty rotten filthy stinking**
i can hear the lolly clinking**
lots of birds; lots of drinking**
i can guess what you’re all thinking**
dirty rotten filthy stinking rich!
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