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 fella's father

Well, I can!

I'll 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 mornin's 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!

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

Who'll boss him around!

I don't give a hang 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 or hammer and 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

Or run a cow around a corral

Or maybe bark for a carousel

'Course it takes talent to do that well

He might be a champ of the heavyweights

Or the fella that sells you glue

Or President of the United States

That'd be all right too

(Spoken)

His mother would like that, but he wouldn't

Be President unless he wanted to be

Not Bill!

(Sung)

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 hat-ball and flabby-faced

Pot-bellied, baggy-eyed bully

Who'll boss him around!

And I'm danged if he'll marry his boss's daughter

A skinny-lipped lady with blood like water

Who'll give him a peck and call it a kiss

And look in his eyes through a lorgnette

(Spoken)

Say, why am I taking on like this?

(Sung)

My kid ain't even been born yet!

I can see him when he's seventeen or so

And starting in to go with a girl

I can give him lots of pointers very sound

On the way to get 'round any girl

Hey, I can tell him-

(Spoken)

Wait a minute

Could it be?

What the hell?

What if he is a girl?

Oh, Bill

Hey Bill

What would I do with him?

What could I do for him?

Me, a bum with no money

(Sung)

You can have fun with a son

But you gotta 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 a gem 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 fellas of two and three

But my little girl

Gets hungry every night

And she comes home to me

I gotta get ready

Before she comes

I 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!