Soliloquy歌词

I wonder what he'll think of me
I guess he'll call me the "old man"
I guess he'll think I can lick
Ev'ry other feller's father
Well, I can! I bet that he'll turn out to be
The spittin' image of his dad
But he'll have more common sense
Than his puddin-headed father ever had
I'll teach him to wrassle
And dive through a wave
When we go in the mornin's for our swim
His mother can teach him
The way to behave But she won't make a sissy out o' him
Not him! Not my boy!
Not Bill! Bill. I will see that he is named after me,
I will. My boy, Bill!
He'll be tall And tough as a tree, will
Bill! Like a tree he'll grow
With his head held high
And his feet planted firm on the ground
And you won't see nobody dare to try
To boss or toss him around!
No pot-bellied, baggy-eyed bully'll toss him around
I don't give a damn what he does
As long as he does what he likes!
He can sit on his tail
Or work on a rail With a hammer, hammering spikes!
He can ferry a boat on a river
Or peddle a pack on his back
Or work up and down The streets of a town
With a whip and a horse and a hack
He can haul a scow along a canal
Run a cow around a corral
Or maybe bark for a carousel
Of course it takes talent to do that well
He might be a champ of theheavyweights
Or a feller that sells you glue
Or President of the United
States That'd be all right, too
His mother would like that
But he wouldn't be President unless he wanted to be
Not Bill! My boy, Bill!
He'll be tall And as tough as a tree, will
Bill Like a tree he'll grow
With his head held high
And his feet planted firm on the ground
And you won't see nobody dare to try
To boss or toss him around!
No fat-bottomed, flabby-faced, pot-bellied, baggy-eyed bastard'll boss