Soliloquy Akkorde von
Gordon Macrae
Gordon Macrae

N/A
Tonart: D major
Verse 1
F#
F#
D#m
D#m
F#
F#
I wonder what he'll think of me.
G#
G#
F#
F#
I guess he'll call me the old man.
C#
C#
I guess he'll think I can lick every
F#
F#
other fella's father.
C#m
C#m
F#
F#
Daug
Daug
Well, I can.
A#
A#
F#
F#
B
B
I bet that he'll turn out to be the
F#
F#
spittin' of his dad,
but he'll have more common sense
C#
C#
than his puddin' -headed
F#
F#
C#
C#
F#
F#
father ever had.
B
B
I'll teach him to wrestle and
dive through a wave
G#
G#
when we go in the mornings for our swim.
C#
C#
His mother can teach him the way to behave,
but she won't make
B
B
D#aug
D#aug
a sissy out of him.
B
B
Not him.
G#
G#
C#m
C#m
Not my boy.
C#
C#
F#
F#
D
D
F#
F#
B
B
Not Bill. Bill. My boy Bill,
C#m
C#m
C#
C#
F#
F#
B
B
F#
F#
B
B
I will see that he's named af ter me. I will. My boy Bill,
F#
F#
B
B
he'll be tall and as tough as a tree.
C#
C#
B
B
Well, Bill, like a tree he'll grow
with his head held high
G#
G#
an d his feet planted firm on the ground.
B
B
F#
F#
And you won't see nobody dare
B
B
F#
F#
to try to boss him
or toss him around.
A
A
B
B
C#
C#
F#
F#
No pot -bellied, baggy -eyed bully
B
B
will boss him around.
I don't give a hang 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, a hammer
D
D
and spikes.
He can ferry a boat on a river
or pedal a pack on his back.
F#
F#
Or work up and down
B
B
the streets of a town
F#
F#
B
B
with a whip and a horse and a hack.
D
D
C#
C#
He can haul a scowl along a canal,
D
D
C#
C#
run a cow around a corral,
A#m
A#m
A
A
C#
C#
or maybe bark for a carousel.
F#
F#
Of course,
A#m
A#m
F#
F#
it takes talent to do that well.
B
B
He might be a champ of the heavyweights,
or a fellow that sells you glue,
G#
G#
C#
C#
or president of the United States.
C#m
C#m
C#
C#
B
B
that it'd be all right too.
F#
F#
His mother would like that,
but he wouldn't be president
B
B
unless he wanted to be.
F#
F#
B
B
Not Bill. My boy Bill,
C#m
C#m
F#
F#
B
B
he'll be tall and as tough as a tree.
C#
C#
B
B
Well, Bill, like a tree he'll grow
with his head held high
G#
G#
an d his feet planted firm on the ground.
A
A
F#
F#
And you won't see nobody
dare to try to boss him
or toss him around.
E
E
C#m
C#m
No fat -bottomed, flabby -faced, pot -bellied, draggy
F#
F#
C#m
C#m
C#
C#
-eyed bully will boss him around.
C#m
C#m
And I'm hanged if he'll
marry his boss's daughter,
a skinny -lipped lady with blood like water,
C#
C#
D
D
Who'd give him a peck and call it a kiss,
F#
F#
B
B
And look in his eyes through a lorgnette?
G#
G#
C#
C#
A
A
D
D
Say, why am I taking on like this?
C#m
C#m
A
A
C#
C#
D
D
My kid ain't even been born yet.
A
A
I can see him when
F#m
F#m
A
A
he's seventeen or so,
F#m
F#m
A
A
And starting in to go with a girl.
F#m
F#m
A
A
F#m
F#m
I can give him lots of pointers
A
A
F#m
F#m
A
A
G
G
very sound on the way to get
Cm
Cm
G
G
Gm
Gm
Eb
Eb
Bb
Bb
around any girl
Gm
Gm
G
G
A
A
I can tell him wait a minute
B
B
could it be what the what
Bm
Bm
B
B
D
D
G
G
D
D
C#
C#
if he is a girl
G#
G#
F#
F#
F#m
F#m
C#
C#
G#
G#
F#m
F#m
Oh, Bill. Bill.
C#
C#
G#
G#
What would I do with her?
F#m
F#m
A
A
G#
G#
F#m
F#m
What could I do for her?
G#
G#
F#
F#
A
A
A bum with no money.
G#
G#
A
A
B
B
You can have fun with a son
F#m
F#m
B
B
G#
G#
B
B
But you gotta be a father to a girl
G#
G#
F#
F#
She mightn't be so bad at that,
A
A
F#m
F#m
her kid with ribbons in her hair.
B
B
What kind of sweet and petite
F#m
F#m
little tintype of her mother
B
B
E
E
A
A
would offend my little girl?
Bm
Bm
Pink and white as peaches
D
D
E
E
C#m
C#m
and cream is she.
A
A
D
D
My little girl is half again
A
A
F#m
F#m
B
B
Bm
Bm
D
D
A
A
as bright as girls are meant to be.
E
E
A
A
D
D
E
E
Dozens of boys pursue her,
A
A
many a likely lead.
G#
G#
C#
C#
F#
F#
G#
G#
Does what he can to woo her ,
C#
C#
F#
F#
B
B
from her faithful dad.
E
E
A
A
C#
C#
F#m
F#m
She has a few pink and white
A
A
Bm
Bm
D
D
E
E
young fellers of two or three.
C#m
C#m
A
A
C#m
C#m
E
E
F#m
F#m
But my little girl get
D
D
A
A
s hungry every night,
F#m
F#m
A
A
A
A
G#
G#
G
G
and she comes home to me.
Gm
Gm
G
G
I gotta get ready before she comes.
F#m
F#m
D
D
I gotta make certain that she
A#
A#
D
D
Won't be dragged up in slums
A#
A#
A
A
With a lot of bums like me
D
D
She's gotta be sheltered
and fed and dressed
In the best that money can buy
G
G
D
D
I never knew how to get money
A
A
F#m
F#m
But I'll try, I'll try
D
D
A
A
D
D
G
G
I'll try, I'll go out and make it,
D
D
G
G
D#dim
D#dim
A
A
D
D
or steal it, or take it, or die!

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