Cifras
Soliloquy

Tono: D

Introducción:  Bm   E9   Bm   E9  

dificultad
difícil |||||
   Bm                                                                           E9                                             Bm                                       E9 
I wonder what he'll think of me! I guess he'll call me   old man"
                                           D                                                             A7       D                                     A7             D           F#7 
I guess he'll think I can lick ev'ry other feller's father well, I can
       Bm                                                               E9                                   Bm                             E9 
I bet that he'll turn out to be the spittin' image of his dad
                                               D                                                                                         A7  D                                                       A7       D 
But he'll have more common sense than his pudding headed father ever had
               Bm                                                                                                                                                                     Bm7                                                                   E9 
I'll teach him to wrassle, and dive through a wave when we go in the mornin's for our swim
                   Am                                                                                                                                             Am7                                                               B7 
His mother can teach him the way to behave, but she won't make a sissy out o' him
               E7                             Am9                     D7M   E7(b5)  A7M     D6 
Not him!       Not my boy!       Not Bill!                                                       Bill!
 G                   G6                         Am7                                 D7                     G6  G#º     D7 
My boy Bill! I will see that he is named after me, I                       will
 G                       G6                                 Am7               D7               G6        Am7 
My boy, Bill! He'll be tall and tough as a tree, will         Bill
 D7             G                                                                     B7                                                               Em                                                               A9 
Like a tree he'll grow with his head held high and his feet planted firm on the ground
                               D                           G7M           D             G6           D                 A7                       D 
And you won't see nobody dare to try to boss or toss him around
 D9   G                               Am7                     G7M       D7                         G               C6  G  C6  G  C6  G  C6 
No pot-bellied, baggy-eyed bully'll   boss him around
  moto
         G                                 C6                                 G       C6             G                           C6                                 G             C6 
I don't give a damn what he does           as long as he does what he likes
                           G                           C6           G                       C6                         G                           C6                             Bb             Eb6  Bb  Eb6 
He can sit on his tail or work on a rail with a hammer a hammering spikes
                           Bb           Eb6                 Bb     Eb6           Bb               Eb6                         Bb  Eb6       D7 
He can ferry a boat on a river             or peddle a pack on his back           or work up and down
                   G                                                                     D7                                                                 G                               Gm                               A7 
The streets of a town with a whip and a horse and a hack he can haul a scow along a canal
   Gm                           A7                                             F#m                                         Ab7 
Run a cow around a corral or maybe bark for a carrousel
               F#m                                                           D7 
Of course it takes talent to do that well
                     G                         C6                             G                       C6                       G                           C6                   G         C6 
He might be a champ of the heavyweights or a feller that sells you glue
                     Em7                                   A7                             C                   D7(b5)           G 
Or President of the United States that'd be all right, too
 Am7                                                         D7                                                                 G6                                                                                                    D7 
His mother would like that but he wouldn't be President unless he wanted to be not           Bill
 G                         G6                               Am7                     D7                   G6          Am7 
My boy, Bill! He'll be tall and as tough as a tree, will         Bill!
   D7           G                                                                     B7                                                               Em                                                                 A9 
Like a tree he'll grow with his head held high and his feet planted firm on the ground
                                 D                         G                   D               G6         D                 A7                         D 
And you won't see nobody dare to try to boss or toss him around!
 D9  G                                       Am7                           G                               Am7                       G7M             D7                     Am7 
No fat bottomed, flabby-faced, pot-bellied, baggy-eyed bastard'll boss him around
  moto
                                         Am                                                                                                                       Am7 
And I'll be damned if he'll marry the boss' daughter a skinny-lipped virgin with blood like water
                             F6                                                                                                           E7                           Gm6                               D 
Who'll give him a peck and call it a kiss and look in his eyes through a lorgnette
 E7         Am                                                                                           Am7  Dm  C             E7   Am 
Say, why am I talkin' on like this? My kid   ain't even been born, yet
 F7                                     F6                                         F7                   F6                 F7                   F6                       F7     F6 
I can see him when he's seventeen or so       and startin' to go with a girl