It's a Boy Songtext
von Wendy Waring

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!