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Soliloquy

アーティスト:Frank Sinatra  アルバム:The Concert Sinatra 

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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 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 wrassle 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 o' him Not him! Not my boy! Not Bill! Bill. I will see that he is named after me, I will. My boy, Bill! He'll be tall And 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 or toss him around! No pot-bellied, baggy-eyed bully'll toss 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, 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 a champ of theheavyweights 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 or toss him around! No fat-bottomed, flabby-faced, pot-bellied, baggy-eyed


投稿者: PetitLyrics
プチリリ再生回数:2





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