笨小笨Carousel， Act 1: No. 15， Soliloquy歌词由Nathaniel Hackmann&Sinfonia of London&John Wilson&Richard Rodgers&Oscar Hammerstein II演唱，出自专辑《’Soliloquy’ from Rodgers & Hammerstein’s Carousel》，下面是《Carousel， Act 1: No. 15， Soliloquy》完整版歌词！
Carousel， Act 1: No. 15， Soliloquy歌词完整版
"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 feller’s father –
Well, I can!
(He gives his belt a hitch.)
I bet that he’ll turn out to be
The spit an’ 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 mornin’s 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...
(spoken)
Bill!
(sung)
My boy, Bill! I will see
That he’s named after me,
I will!
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 no-body dare to try
To boss him 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, a-hammerin’ 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 feller that sells you glue,
Or President of the United States –
That’d be all right, too.
(spoken)
His mother’d like that.
But he wouldn’t be President unless he wanted to be!
(sung)
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 no-body dare to try
To boss him or toss him around!
No fat-bottomed, flabby-face, pot-bellied,
baggy-eyed bastard’ll boss him around!
And I’m 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...
(spoken)
Say! Why am I takin’ on like this?
(sung)
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 o’ pointers, very sound,
On the way to get ’round any girl.
I can tell him –
(spoken)
Wait a minute!
Could it be?
What the hell!
What if he is a girl?
Bill!
Oh, Bill!
What would I do with her?
What could I do for her?
A bum – with no money!
(sung)
You can have fun with a son,
But you got to be a father to a girl!
She mightn’t be so bad at that –
A kid with ribbons in her hair,
A kind o’ sweet and petite little tintype of her mother –
What a pair!
When I have a daughter,
I’ll stand around in bar-rooms –
Oh, how I’ll boast and blow!
Friends’ll see me comin’
And empty all the bar-rooms,
Through ev’ry door they’ll go,
Weary of hearin’ day after day,
The same old things that I always say...
My little girl, Sweet and light
As peaches and cream is she.
My little girl Is half again as bright
As girls are 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
Sweet and light
Young fellers of two or three –
But my little girl
Gets hungry ev’ry night
And she comes home to me...
(spoken)
My little girl!
My little girl!
(sung)
I’ve got to get ready before she comes,
I got to make certain that she
Won’t be dragged up in slums
With a lot o’ bums – Like me!
She’s got to 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!
