
[Verse 1] She’s got a silver spoon and a velvet room, A driver waiting by the door. She says the curtains clash with the afternoon, And there’s nothing left to shop for. Her breakfast comes on a porcelain plate, She sighs, “The toast is much too brown.” Then she rings the house to complain it’s late, While the clock is slowing down. [Chorus] Poor little rich girl, what a terrible day, The yacht’s in the wrong bit of blue. Poor little rich girl, with a whole world to play, And nothing quite good enough for you. Oh, poor little rich girl, pull up a chair, There’s a million more things you can buy. Poor little rich girl, you’ve got everything there— So what’s that long face for? Tell us why! [Verse 2] She’s got a pony with a private groom, A tennis court and a heated pool. She says the water’s got too much room, And the country club’s terribly full. Her new red sports car is a shade too loud, Her old blue one is far too slow. She takes a limousine through the market crowd, To ask where the bargains go. [Chorus] Poor little rich girl, what a terrible day, The yacht’s in the wrong bit of blue. Poor little rich girl, with a whole world to play, And nothing quite good enough for you. Oh, poor little rich girl, pull up a chair, There’s a million more things you can buy. Poor little rich girl, you’ve got everything there— So what’s that long face for? Tell us why! [Bridge] “Nothing to wear!” says the girl in her gown, With three new dresses upstairs. “Nothing to do!” as she heads into town, In a chauffeur-driven pair. The butler says, “Shall I fetch you a smile?” She says, “Don’t be ridiculous, please.” Then she complains for another half-mile, And asks for the car with more keys. [Chorus] Poor little rich girl, what a terrible day, The yacht’s in the wrong bit of blue. Poor little rich girl, with a whole world to play, And nothing quite good enough for you. Oh, poor little rich girl, pull up a chair, There’s a million more things you can buy. Poor little rich girl, you’ve got everything there— So what’s that long face for? Tell us why! [Outro] “Is there nothing to eat?” she cries at the spread, With a tower of cakes on display. Poor little rich girl, just shake out your head— There’s a whole new complaint on the way!
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