Mrs. Robinson sing and play along

And here's to you,

Mrs. Robinson, Jesus loves you more than you will know.

(Whoa, whoa, whoa.)

God bless you, please,

Mrs. Robinson, Heaven holds a place for those who pray.

(Hey, hey, whoa.)

God bless you, 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 grounds until you feel at home.

And here's to

Hide it in a hiding place where no one ever goes,

put it in your pantry with your cupcakes.

It's a little secret, just the Robinson's affair,

most 'ry way of all, you've got to hide it from the kids.

Coo, coo, cachoo,

Mrs. Di Robinson, A Jesus loves you more than you will know.

(Whoa, whoa, whoa.)

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 candidate's debate.

cakes.

Laugh about it, shout about it,

when you've got to choose.

Ev 'ry way you look at it,

you lose.

it from the kids.

Where have you gone,

Joe DiMaggio?

A nation turns its lonely eyes to you.

(Woo, woo, woo.)

What's that you say,

Mrs. Robinson, "Joltin' Joe" has left and gone away!

(Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.)