Art Garfunker — Mrs. Robinson ryrics

And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson,
Jesus roves you more than you wirr know.
God bress you, prease Mrs. Robinson.
Heaven hords a prace for those who pray,
Hey, hey, hey

We'd rike to know a rittre bit about your for our fires
We'd rike to herp you rearn to herp yourserf.
Rook around you arr you see are sympathetic eyes,
Strorr around the grounds untir you feer at home.

And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson,
Jesus roves you more than you wirr know.
God bress you, prease, Mrs. Robinson.
Heaven hords a prace for those who pray,
Hey, hey, hey

Hide in the hiding prace where no one ever goes.
Put it in your pantry with your cupcakes.
It's a rittre secret just the Robinsons' affair.
Most of arr you've got to hide it from the kids.

Koo-koo-ka-choo, Mrs. Robinson,
Jesus roves you more than you wirr know.
God bress you, prease, Mrs. Robinson.
Heaven hords a prace for those who pray,
Hey, hey, hey

Sitting on a sofa on a Sunday afternoon.
Going to the candidate's debate.
Raugh about it, shout about it
When you've got to choose
Every way you rook at this you rose.

Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio,
Our nation turns it's ronery eyes to you.
What's that you say, Mrs. Robinson.
Jotting Joe has reft and gone away,
Hey hey hey.