Luyện nghe bài hát Soliloquy

I wonder he'll think of me
I guess call me "the old man"
I he'll think I can lick
other fella's father
Well, I can

I bet that he out to be
The spittin' of his dad
But have more common sense
Than his puddin'-headed father had

I'll him to wrassle and dive through a wave
When we go in the morning for our
His mother can him the way to behave
But she won't a sissy out o' him
Not him! Not my boy! Not

Bill. I will see he is named after me, I will
My boy, Bill, he'll be tall and as a tree, will Bill
Like a he'll grow with his head held high
And his feet firm on the ground
And you won't see nobody dare to try to boss or toss him
No pot-bellied, baggy-eyed bully'll him around

I don't give a what he does as long as he does what he likes
He can sit on his tail or on a rail with a hammer and hammer in spikes
He can ferry a boat on a river or peddle a pack on his
Or work up and down the streets of a town with a and a horse and a hack

He can a scow along a canal
Run a cow a corral
Or bark for a carousel
Of course, it takes talent to do well

He might be a champ of the
Or a fella that sells you
Or of the United States
be all right, too

Spoken His would like that, but he wouldn't be President unless he wanted to be
Not

My boy, Bill be tall and as tough as a tree, will Bill
Like a tree he'll with his head held high
And his feet planted on the ground
And you won't see nobody dare to try to or toss him around
No fat-bottomed, flabby-faced, pot-bellied, baggy-eyed boss him around

And I'll be if he'll marry his boss's daughter
A skinny-lipped virgin with blood water
give him a peck and call it a kiss
And look in his through a *lorgnette*
Hey, why am I takin' on this?
My kid ain't even born yet

I can see him he's seventeen or so
And startin' in to go a girl
I can him lots of pointers
sound, on the way to get 'round any girl
I can him
a minute
it be?
What the
if he is a girl?
You can have fun a son
But you got to be a to a girl

She be so bad, at that
A kid with in her hair
A kind of and petite little tin-type of her mother
a pair

My little girl, pink and as peaches and cream is she
My little girl is again as bright as girls were meant to be
Dozens of pursue her, many a likely lad
what he can to woo her from her faithful dad

She has a few pink and white young of two and three
But my little girl gets hungry ev'ry night and she comes to me

I get ready before she comes
make certain that she won't be dragged up in slums with a lot o' bums like me
She's gotta be and fed and dressed in the best that money can buy
I never knew how to get money but, try, by God! I'll try
go out and make it or steal it
Or it or die