Overture - The ABC Song - I Wanna Be Rich

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 bloody 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 cockle from a whelk Can you imagine it? I mean, just imagine it! Fancy not knowing a cockle 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 bitch 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 nobs And sit in the best seats with all of the snobs 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!