Uncle Harry Lyrics & Chords By Noël Coward

As recorded at Las Vegas in June, 1955

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.