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 Him around And I'll be damned if he'll marry the boss' daughter A skinny-lipped virgin with blood like water Who'll give him a peck And call it a kiss And look in his eyes through a lorgnet Say, why am I talkin' on like this? My kid ain't even been born, yet! I can see him when he's seventeen or so And startin' to go with a girl I can give him lots of pointers, very sound On the way to get 'round any girl I can tell him ... Wait a minute! Could it be? What the hell! What if he is a girl? What would I do with her? What could I do for her? A bum with no money! You can have fun with a son But you got to be a father to a girl She mighn't be so bad at that A kid with ribbons in her hair! A kind o' neat and petite Little tin-type of her mother! What a pair! I can just hear myself bragging about her! My little girl Pink and white As peaches and cream is she My little girl Is half again as bright As girls are meant to be! Dozens of boys pursue her Many a likely lad does what he can to woo her From her faithful dad She has a few Pink and white young fellers of two and three But my little girl Gets hungry ev'ry night and she come home to me! My little girl, my little girl! I got to get ready before she comes! I got to make certain that she Won't be dragged up in slums With a lot o' bums like me She's got to be sheltered And be dressed in the best money can buy! I never knew how to get money But, I'll try, by God! I'll try! I'll go out and make it or steal it Or take it or die!
![SHE USED TO BE MINE from WAITRESS Male Voice Piano Accompaniment in Bb (+5) [Karaoke in CC]](http://i.ytimg.com/vi/pvM9wLkXcOI/mqdefault.jpg)
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
Him around
And I'll be damned if he'll marry the boss' daughter
A skinny-lipped virgin with blood like water
Who'll give him a peck
And call it a kiss
And look in his eyes through a lorgnet
Say, why am I talkin' on like this?
My kid ain't even been born, yet!
I can see him when he's seventeen or so
And startin' to go with a girl
I can give him lots of pointers, very sound
On the way to get 'round any girl
I can tell him ...
Wait a minute!
Could it be?
What the hell!
What if he is a girl?
What would I do with her?
What could I do for her?
A bum with no money!
You can have fun with a son
But you got to be a father to a girl
She mighn't be so bad at that
A kid with ribbons in her hair!
A kind o' neat and petite
Little tin-type of her mother!
What a pair!
I can just hear myself bragging about her!
My little girl
Pink and white
As peaches and cream is she
My little girl
Is half again as bright
As girls are meant to be!
Dozens of boys pursue her
Many a likely lad does what he can to woo her
From her faithful dad
She has a few
Pink and white young fellers of two and three
But my little girl
Gets hungry ev'ry night and she come home to me!
My little girl, my little girl!
I got to get ready before she comes!
I got to make certain that she
Won't be dragged up in slums
With a lot o' bums like me
She's got to be sheltered
And be dressed in the best money can buy!
I never knew how to get money
But, I'll try, by God! I'll try!
I'll go out and make it or steal it
Or take it or die!
5:12