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 every
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
Wrestle and dive
Through a wave
When we go
In the mornins
For a 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
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'll
Boss him around
And 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-hammerin' 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 the
Champ of the
Heavyweights
Or a feller
Who sells you glue
Or President of
The United States
That'd be
Alright too
His mother'd
Like that
But he wouldn't
Be President if
He didn't wanna 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 face
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 lorgnette
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
No no what if he's
A girl
Bill oh Bill
What would I do
With her
What could I do
For her
I'm a bum with
No money
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 tintype
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 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
Every night and she
Comes home to me
My little girl
My little girl
I gotta get ready
Before she comes
I've 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 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