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Daddy's Song Lyrics

Years ago I knew a man
He was my mother's biggest fan
We used to walk beside the sea
And he'd tell how my life would be
When I grew up to be a man
And years ago we used to play
He used to laugh when I ran away
And if I fell and hurt my knee
He would run to comfort me
And the pain would go away

Years ago I knew a boy
He was his daddy's pride and joy
But when the daddy went away
It was such a rainy day
That he brought out all his toys
Now the momma did explain
Trying to take away the pain
But he just couldn't understand
That his father was not a man
And it all was just a game

Years have passed and so have I
Making it hard for me to cry
And if and when I have a son
Let it all be said and done
Let all that sadness pass him by
Song Info
Submitted by
vazio On Dec 09, 2008
3 Meanings

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Cover art for Daddy's Song lyrics by Harry Nilsson

Although often mistaken for a happy, sentimental pop song by those who don't listen past the first verse, this is a bitter song about Harry's feelings of abandonment after his own father left him as a small child.

At the end, he vows not to do the same to his own son, but of course (as predicted more accurately in the song 1941), he did in the end.

Cover art for Daddy's Song lyrics by Harry Nilsson

“The years have passed and so have I Making it hard for me to cry And if and when I have a son Let it all be said and done Let the sadness pass him by”

Almost sounds like he’s referring to after he’s passed away.

Cover art for Daddy's Song lyrics by Harry Nilsson

HAMLET

Let me see.

Takes the skull
Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow
of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath
borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how
abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims at
it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know
not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your
gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment,
that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one
now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen?
Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let
her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must
come; make her laugh at that.

Horatio is Hamlet's most trusted friend, to whom Hamlet reveals all his plans. Horatio swears himself to secrecy about the ghost and Hamlet's pretense of madness, and conspires with Hamlet to prove Claudius's guilt in the mousetrap play. He is the first to know of Hamlet's return from England, and is with him when he learns of Ophelia's death.

“Horatio, thou art e’en as just a man As e’er my conversation coped withal.” — Hamlet to Horatio in the play Hamlet

At the end of the play, Horatio proposes to finish off the poisoned drink which was intended for Hamlet, saying that he is 'more an antique Roman than a Dane', but the dying prince implores Horatio not to drink from the cup and bids his friend to live and help put things right in Denmark; "If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart, / Absent thee from felicity a while, / And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain / To tell my story." Hamlet, speaking of death as "felicity", commands Horatio to wait "a while" to tell the story; perhaps Hamlet dies expecting his friend to follow as soon as the complete story has been told. Hamlet's last request creates a parallel between the name Horatio and the Latin orator, meaning "speaker".

Horatio is present through most of the major scenes of the play, but Hamlet is usually the only person to acknowledge that he is present; when other characters address him, they are almost always telling him to leave. He is often in scenes that are usually remembered as soliloquies, such as Hamlet's famous scene with the skull of Yorick. Horatio is also present during the mousetrap play, the discovery of Ophelia's madness (though the role of an anonymous gentleman-courtier has been substituted in this scene), Hamlet's display at Ophelia's grave, and the all-important final scene. He is the only major character to survive all the way to the end of the play.

In performance, the part of Horatio is the only major part that can't be doubled (played by an actor who also plays another character) since he is present in scenes involving nearly every character.

First Clown

Cudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dull
ass will not mend his pace with beating; and, when
you are asked this question next, say 'a
grave-maker: 'the houses that he makes last till
doomsday. Go, get thee to Yaughan: fetch me a
stoup of liquor.

Exit Second Clown

He digs and sings
In youth, when I did love, did love,
Methought it was very sweet,
To contract, O, the time, for, ah, my behove,
O, methought, there was nothing meet.

HAMLET

Has this fellow no feeling of his business, that he
sings at grave-making?

HORATIO

Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness.

HAMLET

'Tis e'en so: the hand of little employment hath
the daintier sense.

First Clown

[Sings]
But age, with his stealing steps,
Hath claw'd me in his clutch,
And hath shipped me intil the land,
As if I had never been such.

Throws up a skull

HAMLET

That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once:
how the knave jowls it to the ground, as if it were
Cain's jaw-bone, that did the first murder! 

... I will speak to this fellow. Whose grave's this, sirrah?

First Clown

Mine, sir.

Sings
O, a pit of clay for to be made
For such a guest is meet.

HAMLET

I think it be thine, indeed; for thou liest in't.

First Clown

You lie out on't, sir, and therefore it is not
yours: for my part, I do not lie in't, and yet it is mine.

HAMLET

'Thou dost lie in't, to be in't and say it is thine:
'tis for the dead, not for the quick; therefore thou liest.

First Clown

'Tis a quick lie, sir; 'twill away gain, from me to
you.

HAMLET

What man dost thou dig it for?

First Clown

For no man, sir.

HAMLET

What woman, then?

First Clown

For none, neither.

HAMLET

Who is to be buried in't?

First Clown

One that was a woman, sir; but, rest her soul, she's dead.

HAMLET

How absolute the knave is! we must speak by the
card, or equivocation will undo us. By the Lord,
Horatio, these three years I have taken a note of
it; the age is grown so picked that the toe of the
peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier, he
gaffs his kibe. How long hast thou been a
grave-maker?

First Clown

Of all the days i' the year, I came to't that day
that our last king Hamlet overcame Fortinbras.

HAMLET

How long is that since?

First Clown

Cannot you tell that? every fool can tell that: it
was the very day that young Hamlet was born; he that
is mad, and sent into England.

HAMLET

Ay, marry, why was he sent into England?

First Clown

Why, because he was mad: he shall recover his wits
there; or, if he do not, it's no great matter there.

HAMLET

Why?

First Clown

'Twill, a not be seen in him there; there the men
are as mad as he.

HAMLET

How came he mad?

First Clown

Very strangely, they say.

HAMLET

How strangely?

First Clown

Faith, e'en with losing his wits.

HAMLET

Upon what ground?

First Clown

Why, here in Denmark: I have been sexton here, man
and boy, thirty years.

HAMLET

How long will a man lie i' the earth ere he rot?

First Clown

I' faith, if he be not rotten before he die--as we
have many pocky corses now-a-days, that will scarce
hold the laying in--he will last you some eight year
or nine year: a tanner will last you nine year.

HAMLET

Why he more than another?

First Clown

Why, sir, his hide is so tanned with his trade, that
he will keep out water a great while; and your water
is a sore decayer of your whoreson dead body.
Here's a skull now; this skull has lain in the earth
three and twenty years.

HAMLET

Whose was it?

First Clown

A whoreson mad fellow's it was: whose do you think it was?

HAMLET

Nay, I know not.

First Clown

A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! a' poured a
flagon of Rhenish on my head once. This same skull,
sir, was Yorick's skull, the king's jester.

HAMLET

This?

First Clown

E'en that.

HAMLET

Let me see.

Takes the skull
Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow
of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath
borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how
abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims at
it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know
not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your
gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment,
that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one
now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen?
Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let
her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must
come; make her laugh at that.
My Interpretation
 
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