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Couldn't you bust, how can they be just
Happy to be themselves?
They look so odd, like peas in a pod,
Happy to be themselves.
Nowhere to go but still ever so
Happy to be themselves,
Nothing to see what makes them all be
Happy to be themselves.

Shopping with stamps and rubbing their cramps,
Happy to be themselves,
Cooking their stews and drinking their booze,
Happy to be themselves.
Darning their socks and watching the box,
Happy to be themselves,
Saving their brass, cutting their grass,
Happy to be themselves.

They don't remember :
Streamers and clowns and penny arcades,
Merry-go-rounds, and buckets and spades,
Conkers and crisps, and Disney cartoons,
Charabanc rides and broken balloons.

Carrying bags, smoking their fags,
Happy to be themselves,
Having a snooze, standing in queues,
Happy to be themselves.
Waiting like fools for Littlewoods pools,
Happy to be themselves,
Eating their chips and licking their lips,
Happy to be themselves.

Sawdust and swings, and marbles and kites,
Cowboys and kinds, and bonfire nights,
Rabbits that go, and mirrors that bend,
Curtains that fall, and evenings that end.

Riding in tubes and padding their boobs,
Happy to be themselves.
I'll bet they cough when having it off,
Happy to be themselves.
Writing in bogs, walking their dogs,
Happy to be themselves,
They're in a mess but couldn't care less,
Happy to be themselves.

We're pleased to say we like it this way,
Happy to be ourselves.
Better by far to stay as we are,
Happy to be ourselves.
What we are got is still quite a lot,
Happy to be ourselves.
No big ideas of crappy careers,
Happy to be ourselves.

Once you have fame, you're never the same,
Happy to be ourselves.
Swift cardiacs and ulcer attacks,
Happy to be ourselves.
Who wants to race all over the place?
Happy to be ourselves.
Leave us alone, we're fine on our own,
Happy to be ourselves.

Music by John Barry
Lyrics by Don Black
Sung by Michael Crawford, Billy Boyle and Company