ME, I WORK IN A FACTORY...

 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 party 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 they 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

~

Paul Simon