Who wants to be a millionaire?

I don't.

Have flashy flunkies everywhere?

I don't.

Who wants the bother of a country estate?

A country estate is something I'd hate.

Who wants to wallow in champagne?

I don't.

Who wants a supersonic plane?

I don't.

And I don't 'cos all I want is you.





Who wants to be a millionaire?

I don't.

Who wants uranium to spare?

I don't.

Who wants to journey on a gigantic yacht?

Do I want a yacht?

Oh, how I do not.

Who wants a fancy foreign car?

I don't.

Who wants to tire of caviare?

I don't.

Who wants a marble swimming pool too?

I don't.

And I don't 'cos all I want is you.





Who wants to be a millionaire?

I don't.

And go to every swell affair?

I don't.

Who wants to ride behind a liveried chauffeur?

A liveried chauffeur do I want? No sir.

Who wants an opera box I'll bet?

I don't.

And sleep through Wagner at the Met.

I don't.

Who wants to corner Cartiers too?

I don't.

And I don't 'cos all I want is you.