Luyện nghe bài hát Soliloquy

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

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

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

Bill. I will see that he is named after me, I
My boy, Bill, he'll be tall and as a tree, will Bill
a tree he'll grow with his head held high
And his planted firm on the ground
And you won't see dare to try to boss or toss him around
No pot-bellied, bully'll boss him around

I don't give a damn he does as long as he does what he likes
He can sit on his tail or work on a rail a hammer and hammer in spikes
He can ferry a boat on a 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

He can haul a along a canal
Run a cow a corral
Or maybe bark for a
Of course, it takes talent to do that

He be a champ of the heavyweights
Or a fella sells you glue
Or President of the United
be all right, too

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

My boy, he'll be tall and as tough as a tree, will Bill
Like a tree he'll grow his head held high
And his planted firm 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 bully'll boss him

And I'll be damned if he'll marry his daughter
A skinny-lipped virgin blood like water
Who'll give him a peck and it a kiss
And look in his through a *lorgnette*
Hey, why am I takin' on like
My kid ain't even been yet

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

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

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

She has a few and white young fellas of two and three
But my little girl gets hungry night and she comes home to me

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