| Fortune has me well in hand | 
| Armies wait at my command | 
| My gold lies in a foreign land, buried deep beneath the sand | 
| The angels guide my every tread | 
| My enemies are sick or dead | 
| But all the victories I’ve led, haven’t brought you to my bed | 
| You see, everybody loves me, baby | 
| What’s the matter with you? | 
| Won’tcha tell me what did I do to offend you? | 
| Now the purest race I’ve bred for thee, to live in my democracy | 
| And the highest human pedigree awaits the first-born boy baby | 
| And my face on every coin engraved | 
| The anarchists are all enslaved | 
| My own flag is forever waved by grateful people I have saved | 
| You see, everybody loves me, baby | 
| What’s the matter with you? | 
| Won’tcha tell me what did I do to offend you? | 
| Now no land is beyond my claim when the land is seized in the people’s name | 
| By evil men who rob and maim | 
| If war is hell, I’m not to blame! | 
| Why, you can’t blame me, I’m Heaven’s child | 
| I’m the second son of Mary mild | 
| And I’m twice removed from Oscar Wilde | 
| But he didn’t mind, why, he just smiled | 
| Yes, and the ocean parts when I walk through and the clouds dissolve and the | 
| sky turns blue | 
| I’m held in very great value by everyone I meet but you | 
| 'Cause I’ve used my talents as I could | 
| I’ve done some bad, I’ve done some good | 
| I did a whole lot better than they thought I would, so, c’mon, and treat me | 
| like you should! | 
| Because everybody loves me, baby | 
| What’s the matter with you? | 
| Won’tcha tell me what did I do to offend you? | 
| Everybody loves me, baby | 
| What’s the matter with you? | 
| Won’tcha tell me what did I do to offend you? | 
| Woo! | 
| Yeah! | 
| Everybody loves me, baby, what’s the matter with you? | 
| Tell me what did I do to offend you! |