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musical by anthony newley and leslie bricusse - the abc song-i wanna be rich lyrics

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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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