Lyrics by: Oscar Hammerstein II
Music by: Richard Rodgers
Arranged by: Axel Stordahl – Axel Stordahl - Nelson Riddle
From the Album: The Reprise Collection (Disc 2)
From the Film: Carousel
(1957)
Label: Columbia – Columbia – Reprise
Recorded: 4/7/46 – 5/28/46 – 2/21/63
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I wonder what he'll think of me
I guess he'll call me "the
old man"
I guess he'll think I can lick
Ev'ry other fella's father
Well, I can!
I bet that he turns out to be
The spittin' image of his dad
But he'll have more common sense
Than his puddin'-headed father
ever had
I'll teach him to wrassle and
dive through a wave
When we go in the morning for
our swim
His mother can teach him the way
to behave
But she won't make a sissy out
o' him
Not him! Not my boy! Not Bill!
Bill. I will see that he is
named after me, I will.
My boy, Bill, he'll be tall and
tough as a tree, will Bill!
Like a tree he'll grow with his
head held high
And his feet planted firm on the
ground
And you won't see nobody dare to
try to boss or toss him around!
No pot-bellied, baggy-eyed
bully'll boss him around
I don't give a damn what he does
as long as he does what he likes!
He can sit on his tail or work
on a rail with a hammer and hammer in spikes!
He can ferry a boat on a river
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 hack
He can haul a scow along a
canal, run a cow around a corral
Or maybe bark for a carousel
Of course, it takes talent to do
that well
He might be a champ of the
heavyweights or a fella that sells you glue
Or President of the United
States, that'd be all right, too
<SPOKEN: His mother would
like that, but he wouldn't be President unless he wanted to be>
Not Bill!
My boy, Bill he'll be tall and
as tough as a tree, will Bill
Like a tree he'll grow with his
head held high
And his feet planted firm on the
ground
And you won't see nobody dare to
try to boss or toss him around!
No fat-bottomed, flabby-faced,
pot-bellied, baggy-eyed bully'll boss him around
And I'll be damned if he'll
marry his boss's daughter
A skinny-lipped virgin with blood
like water
Who'll give him a peck and call
it a kiss
And look in his eyes through a
*lorgnette*
Hey, why am I takin' on like
this?
My kid ain't even been born yet!
I can see him when he's
seventeen or so and startin' in to go with a girl
I can give him lots of pointers,
very sound, on the way to get 'round any girl
I can tell him
Wait a minute!
Could it be?
What the hell!
What if he is a girl?
You can have fun with a son
But you got to be a father to a
girl
She mighn't be so bad,at that
A kid with ribbons in her hair!
A kind of neat and petite little
tin-type of her mother!
What a pair!
My little girl, pink and white
as peaches and cream is she
My little girl is half again as
bright as girls were meant to be!
Dozens of boys pursue her, many
a likely lad
Does what he can to woo her from
her faithful dad
She has a few pink and white
young fellas of two and three
But my little girl gets hungry
ev'ry night and she comes home to me!
I gotta get ready before she
comes
Gotta make certain that she
won't be dragged up in slums with a lot o' bums like me
She's gotta be sheltered and fed
and dressed in the best that money can buy!
I never knew how to get money
but, I'll try, by God! I'll try!
I'll go out and make it or steal
it
Or take it or die!
NOTE: From Webster's Revised
Unabridged Dictionary (1913) (web1913)
Lorgnette \Lor`gnette"\n.
[F.] An opera glass; pl. elaborate double eyeglasses.