|
They say that Richard Cory owns one half of this whole town, |
|
With political connections to spread his wealth around. |
|
Born into society, a banker's only child, |
|
He had everything a man could want: power, grace, and style. |
|
But I work in his factory |
|
And I curse the life I'm living |
|
And I curse my poverty |
|
And I wish that I could be, |
|
Oh, I wish that I could be, |
|
Oh, I wish that I could be |
|
Richard Cory. |
|
The papers print his picture almost everywhere he goes: |
|
Richard Cory at the opera, Richard Cory at a show. |
|
And the rumor of his parties and the orgies on his yacht! |
|
Oh, he surely must be happy with everything he's got. |
|
But I work in his factory |
|
And I curse the life I'm living |
|
And I curse my poverty |
|
And I wish that I could be, |
|
Oh, I wish that I could be, |
|
Oh, I wish that I could be |
|
Richard Cory. |
|
He freely gave to charity, he had the common touch, |
|
And they were grateful for his patronage and thanked him very much, |
|
So my mind was filled with wonder when the evening headlines read: |
|
"Richard Cory went home last night and put a bullet through his head." |
|
But I work in his factory |
|
And I curse the life I'm living |
|
And I curse my poverty |
|
And I wish that I could be, |
|
Oh, I wish that I could be, |
|
Oh, I wish that I could be |
|
Richard Cory. |
