Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?

by Cole Porter

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
Who wants a private landing field too? I don't
And I don't, 'cause 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 caviar? I don't
Who wants a marble swimming pool too? I don't
And I don't, 'cause 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, 'cause all I want is you

(You'd Be So) Easy to Love

by Cole Porter

I know too well that I'm
Just wasting precious time
In thinking such a thing could be
That you could ever care for me

I'm sure you hate to hear
That I adore you, dear
But grant me just the same
I'm not entirely to blame

For you'd be so easy to love
So easy to idolize all others above
So sweet to waken with
So nice to sit down to eggs and bacon with

We'd be so grand at the game
So carefree together that it does seem a shame
That you can't see your future with me
'Cause you'd be oh, so easy to love

You'd be so easy to love
So easy to idolize all others above
So worth the yearning for
So swell to keep every home-fire burning for

Oh, how we'd bloom, how we'd thrive
In a cottage for two, or even three, four, or five
So try to see your future with me
'Cause you'd be oh, so easy to love

Ev'ry Time We Say Goodbye

by Cole Porter

Ev'ry time we say goodbye
I die a little
Ev'ry time we say goodbye
I wonder why a little
Why the gods above me
Who must be in the know
Think so little of me
They allow you to go

When you're near there's such an air
Of spring about it
I can hear a lark somewhere
Begin to sing about it
There's no love song finer
But how strange the change
From major to minor
Ev'ry time we say goodbye

You'd Be So Nice to Come Home To

by Cole Porter

You'd be so nice to come home to
You'd be so nice by the fire
While the breeze on high
Sang a lullaby
You'd be all that I could desire

Under stars chilled by the winter
Under an August moon burning above
You'd be so nice
You'd be paradise
To come home to and love

You Do Something to Me

by Cole Porter

You do something to me
Something that simply mystifies me
Tell me, why should it be
You have the power to hypnotize me

Let me live 'neath your spell
Do do that voodoo that you do so well
For you do something to me
That nobody else could do

I Happen to Like New York

by Cole Porter

I happen to like New York
I happen to like this town
I like the city air, I like to drink of it
The more I know New York, the more I think of it
I like the sight and the sound and even the stink of it
I happen to like New York

I like to go to Battery Park
And watch those liners booming in
I often ask myself, why should it be
That they come so far across the sea?
I suppose it's because they all agree with me
They happen to like New York

Last Sunday afternoon
I took a trip to Hackensack
But after I gave Hackensack the once over
I took the next train back

I happen to like New York
I happen to love this town
And when I have to give the world a last farewell
And the undertaker starts to ring my funeral bell
I don't want to go to heaven, don't want to go to hell
I happen to like New York

I've Got You Under My Skin

by Cole Porter

I've got you under my skin
I've got you deep in the heart of me
So deep in my heart
That you're really a part of me
I've got you under my skin

I've tried so hard not to give in
I've said to myself this affair will never go so well
But why should I try to resist
When baby, I know so well
That I've got you under my skin

I'd sacrifice anything, come what might
For the sake of having you near
In spite of a warning voice that comes in the night
And repeats, repeats in my ear

Don't you know little fool, you never can win?
Use your mentality, wake up to reality
But each time I do, just the thought of you
Makes me stop before I begin
'Cause I've got you under my skin

Brush Up Your Shakespeare

by Cole Porter

The girls today in society
Go for classical poetry
So to win their hearts one must quote with ease
Aeschylus and Euripides

One must know Homer, and believe me, beau
Sophocles, also Sappho-ho
Unless you know Shelley and Keats and Pope
Dainty Debbies will call you a dope

But the poet of them all
Who will start 'em simply ravin'
Is the poet people call
The Bard of Stratford-on-Avon

Brush up your Shakespeare
Start quoting him now
Brush up your Shakespeare
And the women you will wow

Just declaim a few lines from Othella
And they'll think you're a hell of a fella
If your blonde won't respond when you flatter 'er
Tell her what Tony told Cleopatterer
If she fights when her clothes you are mussing
What are clothes? Much Ado About Nussing
Brush up your Shakespeare
And they'll all kow-tow

With the wife of the British ambessida
Try a crack out of Troilus and Cressida
If she says she won't buy it or tike it
Make her tike it, what's more As You Like It
If she says your behavior is heinous
Kick her right in the Coriolanus
Brush up your Shakespeare
And they'll all kow-tow

If you can't be a ham and do Hamlet
They will not give a damn or a damlet
Just recite an occasional sonnet
And your lap will have honey upon it
When your baby is pleading for pleasure
Let her sample your Measure for Measure
Brush up your Shakespeare
And they'll all kow-tow

Better mention The Merchant Of Venice
When her sweet pound o' flesh you would menace
If her virtue, at first, she defends well
Just remind her that All's Well That Ends Well
And if still she won't give you a bonus
You know what Venus got from Adonis
Brush up your Shakespeare
And they'll all kow-tow

If your girl is a Washington Heights dream
Treat the kid to A Midsummer Night's Dream
If she then wants an all-by-herself night
Let her rest every 'leventh or Twelfth Night
If because of your heat she gets huffy
Simply play on and lay on, Macduffy!
Brush up your Shakespeare
And they'll all kow-tow

What Is This Thing Called Love?

by Cole Porter

I was a humdrum person
Leading a life apart
When love flew in through my window wide
And quickened my humdrum heart

Love flew in through my window
I was so happy then
But after love had stayed a little while
Love flew out again

What is this thing called love?
This funny thing called love?
Just who can solve its mystery?
Why should it make a fool of me?

I saw you there one wonderful day
You took my heart and threw it away
That's why I ask the Lord in heaven above
What is this thing called love?

Were Thine That Special Face

by Cole Porter

Were thine that special face
The face that fills my dreaming
Were thine the rhythmed grace
Were thine the form so lithe and slender
Were thine the arms so warm, so tender
Were thine the kiss divine

Were thine the love for me
The love that fills my dreaming
When all these charms are thine
Then you'll be mine, all mine

I wrote a poem
In classic style
I wrote it with my tongue in my cheek
And my lips in a smile
But of late my poem
Has a meaning so new
For to my surprise
It suddenly applies
To my darling, to you

I Get a Kick Out of You

by Cole Porter

My story is much too sad to be told
But practically everything leaves me totally cold
The exception I know is the case
When I'm out on a quiet spree
Fighting vainly the old ennui
And I suddenly turn and see your fabulous face

I get no kick from champagne
Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all
So tell me why should it be true
That I get a kick out of you?

Some, they may go for cocaine
I'm sure that if I took even one sniff
It would bore me terrifically, too
Yet I get a kick out of you

I get a kick every time
I see you standing there before me
I get a kick, though it's clear to see
You obviously do not adore me

I get no kick in a plane
Flying too high with some gal in the sky
Is my idea of nothing to do
Yet I get a kick out of you