Why can't I be like all the other kids?
They all have three-bedroom homes
Broken trucks on their lawns
And cut-up hot dogs for lunch
It's not my fault my parents succeed so much
There's no one in town I can relate to
I play with autographed baseball bats
While everyone else just plays with sticks and pine cones
Has a boy ever felt so alone?
Well, who needs them anyway?
I won't pretend I’m something I'm not
If I can't be poor, I've got to deal with what I've got
If I can't be like them what I need is morе rich kids around
So I'm not the only one and then I won't bе so down
Please God, send more rich kids to my town