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 wrestle 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.