It's a Boy

Here it is Tuesday, November 4, 1879 And here I am Clement V. Rogers The father of six lovely daughters Waiting nervously for the birth of my first son Yippee Yay! Yippee Yai! I hit the ol' bullseye! Hooray, hooray, hooray at last it's a boy Hey, I got me a boy, step right up it's a boy! I got a son and an heir (Woo Hoo!) What else can compare? (Woo Hoo!) I haven't a care, I wanna sing Hosannas! Hooray, hooray although I love all my girls Six is plenty of girls After all of those girls I gave it one extra shot (Woo Hoo!) Kept praying a lot (Woo Hoo!) And look what I've got, I'm passing out Havanas! Yippee yai yay! He'll keep the shine on the family name Hip yai yay! His Pa's a rancher, so he'll be the same With cattle standing, I'll yonder for miles around That's why I'm handing the smokes and the smiles around! Hooray, hooray, hooray at last it's a male And his powerful wail Says he's hardy and hail! And he'll be proud as can be (Woo Hoo!) When he knows that he (Woo Hoo!) Is part Cherokee like his Pa! My hopes no longer are slim! I'm way out on a limb! Hopes are riding on him! And he'll grow up to be a hell of a man I'll make him a man A hell of a man Like yours truly! Hooray, hooray, hooray for my lucky star! (Woo hoo!) Have a cigar (Woo hoo!) I'm jumping for joy! (Woo hoo!) At last it's a boy! Ya gotta keep tryin'! At last it's a boy! Well, now that I'm 13 years old I got some bad news Oh Lord, son Don't tell me you were expelled again! I'm sorry, Pa The principal and I just couldn't agree on how to run that school! You gotta get an education, boy! So you'll never have to worry about winding up in the Congress Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear no time for his bye Little Will's a big guy And he don't even try to get along with our Pa Won't listen to Pa Well livin' with Pa, that ain't no bed of roses Well, now that I'm 19 years old I'm going down to the Argentine The Argentine?! I hear they got work down there for cowboys That's what I aim to be I was counting on you staying here and running this ranch! Ah, it ain't in me to run anything, Pa Why can't I do with my life what I want to? I reckon you will, son But I wouldn't be a good father if I didn't make it as difficult as possible Hooray, hooray some dirty work has been done He can't be the real one Can't be Glen Rogers' son! He says he don't want a ranch He's some rotten branch Must be part Camanche for sure! To Argentina he'll steam What a crackpotted scheme! It's the end of my dream 'Course he will never be that hell of a man A looked up to man A hell of a man Like yours truly! But what the heydee hey I still got six girls (Woo hoo!) Six million curls! I'm jumpin' for joy! Goodbye Willy boy! And don't write for money! Goodbye Willy boy!