Soliloquy

Intro: Bm E9 Bm E9  


 Bm                                      E9                       Bm                    E9 
I wonder what he'll think of me! I guess he'll call me  old man" 
                     D                               A7    D                   A7       D      F#7 
I guess he'll think I can lick ev'ry other feller's father well, I can 
   Bm                                E9                  Bm               E9 
I bet that he'll turn out to be the spittin' image of his dad 
                       D                                             A7 D                            A7    D    
But he'll have more common sense than his pudding headed father ever had 
       Bm                                                                                   Bm7                                  E9 
I'll teach him to wrassle, and dive through a wave when we go in the mornin's for our swim 
         Am                                                                       Am7                                B7/13- 
His mother can teach him the way to behave, but she won't make a sissy out o' him  
       E7/9-               Am9           Dmaj7  E5-/7 Amaj7/9-   D6 
Not him!    Not my boy!    Not Bill!                            Bill! 

G          G6             Am7                 D7           G6 G#°   D7 
My boy Bill! I will see that he is named after me, I            will 
G            G6                 Am7        D7        G6   B°  Am7 
My boy, Bill! He'll be tall and tough as a tree, will     Bill  
D7       G                                   B7                                Em                                A9 
Like a tree he'll grow with his head held high and his feet planted firm on the ground 
               D              Gmaj7      D       G6      D         A7            D 
And you won't see nobody dare to try to boss or toss him around 
D9  G                Am7           Gmaj7    D7             G        C6 G C6 G C6 G C6 
No pot-bellied, baggy-eyed bully'll  boss him around  

 moto 
    G                 C6                 G    C6       G              C6                 G       C6 
I don't give a damn what he does      as long as he does what he likes 
             G              C6      G            C6             G              C6               Bb       Eb6 Bb Eb6 
He can sit on his tail or work on a rail with a hammer a hammering spikes 
             Bb      Eb6         Bb   Eb6      Bb        Eb6             Bb Eb6    D7           
He can ferry a boat on a river       or peddle a pack on his back      or work up and down 
         G                                   D7                                 G                Gm                A7 
The streets of a town with a whip and a horse and a hack he can haul a scow along a canal 
 Gm              A7                       F#m                     Ab7               
Run a cow around a corral or maybe bark for a carrousel  
       F#m                              D7 
Of course it takes talent to do that well 
          G             C6               G            C6            G              C6          G     C6 
He might be a champ of the heavyweights or a feller that sells you glue 
          Em7                  A7               C          D5-/7      G 
Or President of the United States that'd be all right, too  
Am7                             D7                                 G6                                                D°   D7 
His mother would like that but he wouldn't be President unless he wanted to be not      Bill  



G             G6                Am7           D7          G6    D°  Am7 
My boy, Bill! He'll be tall and as tough as a tree, will     Bill! 
 D7      G                                   B7                                Em                                 A9 
Like a tree he'll grow with his head held high and his feet planted firm on the ground 
                D             G          D        G6     D         A7             D 
And you won't see nobody dare to try to boss or toss him around! 
D9 G                    Am7              G                Am7            Gmaj7       D7           Am7 
No fat bottomed, flabby-faced, pot-bellied, baggy-eyed bastard'll boss him around 
 moto 
                    Am                                                            Am7                
And I'll be damned if he'll marry the boss' daughter a skinny-lipped virgin with blood like water 
              F6                                                      E7              Gm6                D 
Who'll give him a peck and call it a kiss and look in his eyes through a lorgnette 
E7     Am                                              Am7 Dm C       E7  Am 
Say, why am I talkin' on like this? My kid  ain't even been born, yet 

F7                   F6                     F7          F6         F7          F6            F7   F6 
I can see him when he's seventeen or so    and startin' to go with a girl 
F7                    F6                      F7             F6           Gb6           Abm6        Gb6 
I can give him lots of pointers, very sound    on the way to get 'round any girl  
 F7                  F6                   F7                              Gm7                   C7  Am  D9 
I can tell him wait a minute! Could it be? What the hell! What if he is a girl     
Am                                       D9                                   Am                               D9 
What would I do with her? What could I do for her? A bum with no money 
                       C                                   G7 C                   G7  C    E7 
You can have fun with a son, but you got to be a father to a girl 
        Am                           D9                   Am                 D9 
She mighn't be so bad at that a kid with ribbons in her hair 
                C                              G7 C                             G7       C      Bb  C7 
A kind o' neat and petite little tin-type of her mother! What a pair  
                                      
I can just hear myself bragging about her 
F                   A7                         Gm                             C7/13 C7 
My little girl pink and white as peaches and cream is she      
 F                      Bb                  F           Gm          Gm7     C5-/7 C7 
My little girl is half again as bright as girls are meant to be 
Am7                 F      Bb  C7  Am7         F    E7/A  E7     
Dozens of boys   pursue her, many a likely lad  
 A                              Bm9 E7  A7          D7        G7/13 C7 
Does what he can to woo  her from her faithful dad  
 F                    A7                               Gm                       C7/13  C7 
She has a few pink and white young fellers of two and three 
       F                          Bb                   F     G9  F              C7        F 
But my little girl gets hungry ev'ry night and she come home to me 
                                      
   B                         Eb                         
I got to get ready before she comes  
Bbmaj7                              Gb                  Bbm                                  
I got to make certain that she won't be dragged up in slums 
Bbm7  Gb              Ebm  F           Bb                         Dm      Bb 
With a lot o' bums like  me she's got to be sheltered      and fed and dressed  
Dm     Bb             Dm      Bb        Ebmaj7        Ebm           Bb        
In the best money      can buy! I never knew how to get money  
Bb°      F7        B°     Bbm F      Bb              Eb    F        Bbmaj7      Eb           Bb  Db F7 Bb 
But,     I'll try, by God! I'll try!      I'll go out and make   it or steal it or take it or die