Oh that this too, too solid flesh
would give it a rest.
It's been toiling and boiling
and I've been trying to tame it for days.
It was a midsummer night
and it was hotter than Hell.
We were making much ado
like we couldn't help ourselves.
All's well that ends,
but I couldn't help wanting to stay.

For me it was mostly the wordplay.
I think she just liked what she heard.

I'll take the Fifth and the common clothes.
It's a foregone conclusion that everybody knows.
I'd trade my kingdom right now for the scent of a rose.
So wherefore art thou
and where the fuck am I?
Friends and Romans gather near
and stick it in your eye.
I'm going into the breech once more
and I'm just hoping to make it out alive.

For me, it was usually the tragedy.
I think she might prefer to laugh.

She's the kind of girl that you should make up songs about,
because she's the kind that you take home to keep.
She's got the kind of beautiful soul
that could make even an angel weep.
No false pretense in her common sense
there's Zinfandel right next to the beer.
Lives every day in the now and here
and she doesn't know shit about Shakespeare.

I used to be all about one-acts.
But this feels like a three-part thing.

I'm the kind of guy who’s always tried to go it alone.
But that's wearing thin fast and I'm getting old.
If the play's the thing, then it's all played out.
Even the Scottish One is due for good luck by now.
I'm tired of living alone with my doubts and fears,
and I don't really know shit about Shakespeare.