They say that Richard Cory owns
One half of this old town,
With elliptical 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.

[Refrain] But I, I work in his factory
     And I curse the life I'm livin'
     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.

[Refrain]
But I, I work in his factory
     And I curse the life I'm livin'
     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 really 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."