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           D7M  E5-/7 A7+/9-   D6 
Not him!    Not my boy!    Not Bill!                            Bill! 

G          G6             Am7                 D7           G6 G#dim   D7 
My boy Bill! I will see that he is named after me, I            will 
G            G6                 Am7        D7        G6   Bdim  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              G7M      D       G6      D         A7            D 
And you won't see nobody dare to try to boss or toss him around 
D9  G                Am7           G7M    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                                                Ddim   D7 
His mother would like that but he wouldn't be President unless he wanted to be not      Bill  



G             G6                Am7           D7          G6    Ddim  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            G7M       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  
Bb7M                              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        Eb7M        Ebm           Bb        
In the best money      can buy! I never knew how to get money  
Bbdim      F7        Bdim     Bbm F      Bb              Eb    F        Bb7M      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