Lyrics

It's the same old chicken And the same old egg The Bankers bank And the Beggars beg While History Repeats itself And Dreamers dream Of a Commonwealth And Thinkers think Of a How and Why Among the What and When and Where A Who is Who of Nobody goes by… The Filthy Rich (Who do they think they are?) Don't have a lot In common with The Dirt Poor What are they good for? The Filthy Rich (Who do they think they are?) Don't have a clue Why people like Thе Dirt Poor Do what they do On their hands and knees Come rain or shinе Heaven only knows What they hope to find As they dig their dirt-poor fingers Into heaps of stinking waste The misery of Opulence Is equal to the squalor of good taste (Who do they think they are? Who?) In our heart of hearts And our Monkey Brains We know this Status Quo Cannot be maintained Without the Jealousy and Greed Every one of us seems to need Without the Selfishness and Hate That we all find so innate It's the same old story No one understands So remember whoever you are Whatever you do please don't forget To wash you hands… (Who do they think they are? Who?)