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 fellers father
Well I can
I bet that he turns 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 morning
For our swim
His mother can teach him
The way to behave
But she won't make
A sissy out of him
Not him Not my boy
Not Bill
My boy Bill
I will see that he's
Named after me
I will
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 him or toss him around
No pot-bellied
Baggy-eyed bully
Will 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
And 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 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 him
Or toss him around
No fat-bottomed flabby-faced
Pot-bellied baggy-eyed
Bully will boss him around
And I'm damned if he'll marry
His boss's 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 takin on
Like this
My kid ain't even
Been born yet
I can see him
When he's seventeen or so
And startin in 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
You can have fun
With a son
But you got to be a father
To a girl
She mightn't be so bad
At that
A kid with ribbons
In her hair
A kind of neat and petite
Little tin-type of her mother
What a pair
My little girl
Pink and white
As peaches and cream is she
My little girl
Is half again as bright
As girls were 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
Gotta make certain that she
Won't be dragged up in slums
With a lot of bums like me
She's gotta be sheltered
And fed and dressed
In the best that money can buy
I never know
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