Oh Mrs. Harrington, Your Nephew Plays The Flute
Daydreaming in the choir loft on Sunday afternoon
When from the street came wafting up a quite familiar tune
The congregation stopped their hymn and jumped up from their seats
As the fairest of the Harringtons came fluting down the street
Mrs. Harrington, so prim and proper in her wide brimmed hat
Wouldn't flaunt the family flautist, so in the pew she sat
Father Flanagan approached her and said "Don't be so aloof"
Oh Mrs. Harrington, you nephew plays the flute
His shoes are always shiny and he wears a brand new suit
Oh Mrs. Harrington, your nephew plays the flute!
Mrs. Harrington, she stood up not much taller than she sat
She gathered her belongings and she straightened up her hat
She walked out in the street to hear her darling nephew play
And he warmed the cockles of her heart that cold St. Patrick's Day
He's got a certain way about him; that I can't dispute
Oh Mrs. Harrington, your nephew plays the flute
The delicate young Harrington is now known far and wide
For the lilting song you're sure to hear if you should go outside
And if you've never heard his song, you're bound to hear it soon
So raise your pint and drink a toast whene'er you hear the tune
LA DA DA DA...
He certainly does have a knack; that fact you can't refute
Oh Mrs. Harrington, your nephew plays the flute
He could have been a pharmacist, but now that point is moot
Oh Mrs. Harrington, your nephew plays the flute
He's very schooled and somewhat known for being quite astute
Oh Mrs. Harrington, your nephew plays the flute
Lyrics
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