Mrs. Robinson
by Paul Simon
And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson.
Jesus loves you more than you will know (wo, wo, wo)
God bless you, please, Mrs. Robinson.
Heaven holds a place for those who pray,
(Hey, hey, hey, . . . hey, hey, hey)
We'd like to know a little bit about you for our files.
We'd like to help you learn to help yourself.
Look around you, all you see are sympathetic eyes.
Stroll around the ground until you fell at home.
And here's to you Mrs. Robinson.
Jesus loves you more than you will know (wo, wo, wo)
God bless you, please, Mrs. Robinson.
Heaven holds a place for those who pray,
(Hey, hey, hey, . . . hey, hey, hey)
Hide it in a hiding place where no one ever goes.
Put it in you pantry with your cup cake.
It's a little secret, just the Robinson's affair.
Most of all you've got to hide it from the kids,
Coo, coo, ca-choo, Mrs. Robinson,
Jesus loves you more than you will know. (wo, wo, wo)
God bless you, please, Mrs. Robinson.
Heaven holds a place for those who pray.
(Hey, hey, hey, . . . hey, hey, hey)
Sitting on a sofa on a Sunday afternoon.
Going to the candidates' debate.
Laugh about it, shout about it when you've got to choose.
Ev'ry way you look at it, you lose.
Where have you gone, Joe Dimagio?
A nation turns its lonely eyes to you. (wo, wo, wo)
What's that you say, Mrs. Robinson.
"Jolt-in' Joe" has left and gone away.
(Hey, hey, hey, . . . hey, hey, hey) |
