Piano Lesson / If You Don't Mind My Saying So

Mama, a man with a suitcase followed me home.
Oh?
I've never saw him before!
Did he say anything?
He tried.
Did you say anything?
Of course not, mama! Now, don't dawdle, Amaryllis.
So, do, la, re, ti, mi, a little slower,
And please keep the fingers curved as nice and high as you possibly can.
Don't get faster, dear.
If you don't mind my saying so, it wouldn'tve hurt you to have found out what the gentleman wanted.
I know what the gentleman wanted.
What, dear?
You'll find it in Balzac.
Excuse me for living, but I've never read it.
Neither has anyone else in this town...
There you go again, with the same old comment about the low mentality of River City people
And taking it all too much to heart
Now mama, as long as the Madison Public Library was entrusted to me
with the purpose of improving River City's cultural level,
I can't help my concern that the ladies of River City keep ignoring all my counsel and advice.
But darling, when a woman has a husband and you've got none,
why should she take advice from you?
Even if you can quote Balzac and Shakespeare and all them other highfalutin' Greeks?
Mama, if you don't mind my saying so, you have a bad habit of changing every subject.
No, I haven't changed the subject, I was talking about that stranger-
What stranger?
With the suitcase! Who may be your very last chance.
Mama! Do you think that I'd allow a common masher, now really, Mama,
I have my standards where men are concerned, and I have no intention-
I know all about your standards, and if you don't mind my saying so, there's not a man alive
who could hope to measure up to that blend of Paul Bunyan, Saint Pat, and Noah Webster you've concocted for yourself
out of your Irish imagination, your Iowa stubbornness, and your library full of books.