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.