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Woke up this morning with a strange sense of dreadBrewed my own coffee, made my own bedNo breakfast laid out, no freshly baked breadI had a pop tart insteadFished through my closet to find a clean dressNothing's been washed, the place is a mess, mmmmmmmLook for my limousine, once more it's not thereI can't believe I'm not a millionaireWhere is the room that hosts my shoesThe snooty butler and private mewsMy invitation to Elton's bashBut most of all, where is my cash?AwwwwwwwwDinner from Asda, no lobster in sightMarcella: Tears at the check out, this don't feel rightAnd as I lug my bags up three flights of stairs,I can't believe I'm not a millionaireAaah-uhI can't believe I'm not a millionaireAaah-uhI can't believe I'm not a millionaire From Letras Mania