NAW! I DON'T WANTA BE RICH
(Robison)
As recorded by Carson Robison on Brunswick 442, 1930. [Listen at the Internet Archive.]

You ask me why I'm a hobo, and why I sleep in the ditch.
It's not because I'm lazy; no, I just don't want to be rich.
Why, I could make a million bucks and eat till I got fat,
But then I'd lose my girlish form, and oh! I wouldn't like that.
Doodly-doodle doodle doodle dee doo dee doodly doodle doo. [or something similar]

Now, I could eat out o' dishes; it's just a matter of choice,
But when I eat from an old tin can, there ain't no dishes to wash.
I'd make an excellent banker, if I ever wanted to be,
But just the thought of an iron cage is too suggestive for me.

Now, I could have been a tenor, and mebbe sung high C,
But I heard one on the radio and that was enough for me.
Whenever I think of Lincoln, I know I can never forgive
A guy that would murder a man like him and let these tenors live.

Now, I could be a doctor; my duties I never would shirk,
But if I'd stop to treat a cop, he'd never go back to work.
Oh, I could ride in Pullmans, but there it is again:
The plush they put on the Pullman seats tickles my sensitive skin.

Now, I could be a conductor, and never have a wreck,
But any kind of a railroad man to me is a pain in the neck.
I'll never be a fireman, 'cause they don't use 'em in heaven,
And anyhow, I never could sing "The Wreck of the Old Ninety-Seven."

Now, I could be a broker without the least excuse,
But look at nineteen-twenty-nine and tell me, what's the use?
I don't believe in workin', and savin' to get a steak.
You might take a fall and lose it all, and then wind up in the lake.

Don't need no money to live on, no money for room and board,
But when we're dead I'll mean just as much as Mister Henry Ford.
Now, I could run the White House, or the Mint; I don't care which.
It's not because I'm lazy; no, I just don't want to be rich.