Luyện nghe bài hát Soliloquy

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

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

teach him to wrassle and dive through a wave
When we go in the morning for our
His can teach 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 tough as a tree, will
Like a tree he'll with his head held high
And his feet planted firm on the
And you won't see nobody to try to boss or toss him around
No pot-bellied, bully'll boss him around

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

He can haul a scow a canal
Run a cow around a
Or bark for a carousel
Of course, it talent to do that well

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

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

My boy, Bill he'll be and as tough as a tree, will Bill
a tree he'll grow with his head held high
And his feet planted firm on the
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 damned if he'll marry his boss's
A skinny-lipped virgin with blood like
Who'll give him a peck and it a kiss
And look in his eyes a *lorgnette*
Hey, why am I takin' on this?
My kid ain't been born yet

I can see him when seventeen or so
And in to go with a girl
I can give him 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 mighn't be so bad, at
A kid with in her hair
A kind of and petite little tin-type of her mother
What a

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

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

I get ready before she comes
Gotta make certain that she won't be dragged up in slums with a lot o' like me
She's gotta be and fed and dressed in the best that money can buy
I knew how to get money but, I'll try, by God! I'll try
I'll go out and make it or it
Or it or die