Professor of Harmony

Henry Wylde, the mild self-styled
Gentlemanly conductor, composer
Notes all filed in a leather-bound file
A folding folder, the gold soundz holder

The golden sounds it's proposed he composed
He disclosed the enclosed to his church, unopposed
He transposed the supposed golden sounds with renown
On the choral organ found (down) in his hometown

Born in the heart of a bush, in Bushey, in Herts
Though they say Wylde was not wild at heart
From the start he preferred to defer to the pure Monseigneur
Ciprani who blithely concurred as he lured his tutee on to be
The Academy's appointee as Professor of Harmoneeeeey

Hen-ery Wylde did you long to go wild
To break free from the church, to swim nude in the sea?
Oh, Hen-ery Wylde were you happy to be
A mild Victorian child, Professor of Harmony?



Credits
Writer(s): Simon Jackson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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