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Lyrics

Ring out the bells upon this day of days
May all the angels of the Lord above
In jubilation sing their songs of praise
And crown this blessed time with peace and love

Ain't it a laugh ain't it a treat
Hob nobbin' 'ere among the elite
Here comes a prince, there goes a jew
This one's a queer but what can you do
Paris at my feet Paris in the dust
And here's me breaking bread
With the upper crust.

Lyrics continue below...

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Beggars at the feast master of the dance
Life is easy pickings if you grab your chance
Everywhere you go law abiding folk
Doing what is decent but they're mostly broke

Singing to the lord on Sundays
Praying for the gifts he'll send
But we're the ones who take it
We're the ones who make it in the end

Watch the buggers dance
Watch 'em till they drop
Keep your wits about you and you stand on top
Masters of the land always get your share
Clear away the barricades and we're still there
We know where the wind is blowing
Money is the stuff we smell
And when we're rich as Croesus
Jesus won't I see you in hell

Writer(s): Herbert Kretzmer, Alain Boublil, Claude Michel Schonberg, Jean Marc Natel

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