I Don't Understand the Poor - Jefferson Mays/A Gentleman's Guide To Love And Murder Original Broadway Cast

I say you there hands off that sword put down that book

Isn't it enough we let you look

I hate to dash your futile little hopes

But you pay your sixpence

And stay behind the ropes

I cringe when every cobbler

Or butcher

Or farmer

Comes touching my bannisters

Banging my Armour

They finger every finial

They poke your cornerstone

Who'd want to be reminded

Of what they'll never own

Though my politics are purely democratical

I find the species frankly problematical

I don't understand the poor

I don't understand the poor

The lives they lead

Of want and need

I should think it would be a bore

It seems to be nothing but stubbornness

So what's all the suffering for

To be so debased

Is in terrible taste

I don't understand the poor

To be so debased

Is in terrible taste

I don't understand

To summarize the heretofor

He does not understand the poor

I don't understand the poor

And they're constantly turning out more

Ever festering slum

In Christendom

Is disgorging its young by the score

I suppose there are some with ambition

Say the pickpocket beggar or whore

From what I can tell

They do quite well

They're rising above

And it's work they love

But I don't understand the poor

They're rising above

And it's work they love

But I don't understand the poor

Where's the dignity ensemble where's the dignity

Where's the pride where's the pride

The ignominity the ig

Putting the lame and the halt aside

Why accept charity

I am perplexed by their attitude

I contend we extend them too much latitude

My tenants have no excuse

At Christmas I give them a goose

Where's the integrity

Where's the gratitude

I don't understand the poor

How I long for days of yore

When nary a vassal

Stepped into your castle

They knew not to darken your door

Now they barge in every Tuesday

With a sickening thickening roar

Why clatter and trample

Set an example

We teach them to read

But do they succeed

When they're hungry and frail

We feed them in jail

We send them off to war

I don't understand

I'm not being grand

I don't understand the poor

I don't understand

I'm not being grand

I don't understand

Oh there's one I admit I adore

He's missing a leg

But a very good egg

A gentleman through to the core

Well he may be a bit of a drinker

He can often be found on the floor

Through all of his pains

He never complains

He's bright and astute

A shame that he's mute

According to mother

He may be my brother

A fact we all choose to ignore

But I don't understand

I'm sensitive and

I don't understand the poor

I don't understand

I'm sensitive and

I don't understand

They're a pox on the land

I don't understand

I don't understand

I don't understand the poor

Don't understand

Really I don't