Not to forget as he was grown,
And didn't keep him close beside
All for my very own—
And meanwhiles you was brooding on your throne.
And now—He wouldn't wait no more,
I've helped him go, I couldn't choose;
My one's another in the score
Of all you've grabbed; seems like I lose.
But don't you think you've done so well
Taking my lad that's got but one;