Uncle Harry

  • My family has traditions
    I've heard them a thousand times
    My relatives were not excessively bright
    They love to go off on missions
    To rather peculiar climes
    And lead the wretched heathens to the light
    A few of them got beaten up
    In course of these rampages
    My dear Aunt Maud got eaten up
    While singing ""Rock of Ages.""
    These family expeditions
    Admittedly are a bore
    But there is just one uncle
    That I positively adore

    Poor Uncle Harry
    Wanted to be a missionary
    So he took a ship and sailed away
    This visionary
    Hotly pursued by dear Aunt Mary
    Found a South Sea Isle on which to stay
    The natives greeted them kindly and invited them to dine
    On yams and clams and human hams and vintage coconut wine
    The taste of which was filthy, but the after-effects divine

    Poor Uncle Harry
    Got a bit gay and longed to tarry
    This, Aunt Mary couldn't quite allow
    She lectured him severely on a number of church affairs
    But when she'd gone to bed he made a getaway down the stairs
    For he longed to find the answer to a few of the maiden's prayers
    Uncle Harry's not a missionary now

    Poor Uncle Harry
    After a chat with dear Aunt Mary
    Thought the time had come to make a row
    He lined up all the older girls in one of the local sheds
    And while he was reviling them, and tearing himself to shreds
    They took their Mother Hubbards off and tied them around their heads
    Uncle Harry's not a missionary now
    He's awfully happy
    But he's certainly not a missionary now!

    Now Uncle was just a 'seeker'
    A 'dreamer' sincerely blest
    Of this there couldn't be a shadow of doubt
    The fact that his flesh was weaker
    Than even Aunt Mary guessed
    Took even her some time to figure out
    In all those languid latitudes
    The atmosphere's exotic
    To take up moral attitudes
    Would be too idiotic
    Though nobody could be meeker
    Than Uncle had been before
    I bet today he's giving way
    At practically every pore!

    Poor Uncle Harry
    Having become a missionary
    Found the natives' morals rather crude
    He and Aunt Mary
    Quickly imposed an arbitrary
    Ban upon them shopping in the nude
    They all considered this silly and they didn't take it well
    They burned his boots and several suits and wrecked the Mission Hotel
    They also burnt his mackintosh, which made a disgusting smell

    Poor Uncle Harry
    After some words with dear Aunt Mary
    Called upon the chiefs for a pow-wow
    They didn't brandish knives at him, they really were awfully sweet
    They made concerted dives at him and offered him things to eat
    But when they threw their wives at him he had to admit defeat
    Uncle Harry's not a missionary now

    Poor dear Aunt Mary
    Though it were revolutionary
    Thought her time had come to take a bow
    Poor Uncle Harry looked at her, in whom he had placed his trust
    His very last illusion broke and crumbled away to dust
    For she'd placed a flower behind her ear and frankly...exposed... her bust
    Uncle Harry's not a missionary now
    He's left the island
    But he's certainly not a missionary now Writer/s: NOEL COWARD
    Publisher: Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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