Soliloquy (My Boy Bill) (Live On The Ed Sullivan Show, January 8, 1967)

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 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' 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

Ha ha!

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 fat-bottomed, flabby-faced bully will 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 the rail

With a hammer a-hammerin' spikes

He can ferry a boat on the 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 a champ of the heavyweights

Or a fellow who 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