Lyrics of
Soliloquy

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 pudding 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!
My boy 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 boss 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 a 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 carrousel
Of course it takes talent to do that well
He might be a champ of the heavyweights
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 lorgnette
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? Bill, oh Bill
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!
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 fed and 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!