Robert Lund Shakespearean Pie lyrics

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Shakespearean Pie by Robert Lund Shakespearean Pie lyrics A long, long time ago I can still remember How, alas, poor Yorick's jokes drew groans He'd dance and sing and kiss my hand Like Elsinore was Neverland But then he went and joined the Skull and Bones And now, Horatio, I get shivers With every line the ghost delivers All the Globe has been dark 'Cause something rots in Denmark I can't recall a thing as weird As when dear old Daddy reappeared To say that he'd been poison-eared The day King Hamlet died So: To be or to choose not to be? That's the question I'm digestin' in my soliloquy And when fortune aims its slings and arrows at me Tell me how I'm gonna live through Act III? Answer, please, iambically Did you like Shakespeare in Love? And did you rewind for scansion of Gwyneth with her wardrobe gone? Now, do you believe in English Lit? Is brevity the soul of wit? If so, then why's this bloody play so long? Well, I know this role has real cachet For each Branagh and Olivier Mel Gibson draws blood nice Man, I dig that Passion of Christ! I was a young, great Dane in British schools With my pet Ophelia and a dad who rules But I knew we'd been played for fools The day King Hamlet died So here's the question: To be or choose rather to be Suicidal or to idle apathetically, Or is volition all it's cracked up to be If "to die, to sleep, to dream" is lovely? (Please explain the question to me) Less than two months since the obit ran And Lord knows, frailty, thy name's wo-man: My dumbass uncle wears Dad's ring So I set the stage for a royal sting What a script! I thought, The play's the thing Where I'll catch the conscience of the king Oh, and while the king enjoyed the show The players showed him whack his bro The king stomped off and cried O.J. yelled Homicide! So Let's Make a Deal, Queen Mother, who Is behind curtain number two? How now, a rat? I sliced him through The day Polonius died I was thinking: To be or to go with Plan B? Is it nobler just to soldier on Shakespeareanly Or fly off to the undiscovered country? Thus my conscience makes a coward of me Get me to a fun nunnery Hanky panky? Nope, Ophelia's cranky Could she be ticked that I nailed that Yankee? Maybe 'cause I knifed her dad? She shouted Foul! in her wrath You'll never tread on my primrose path! (Guess my joke 'bout "country matters" made her mad) Now, the nymph went nutso north-northwest Went and took a swim completely dressed She sank just like a ship So here's the moral: skinny-dip! Poor Laertes missed his tour de France But, merde, this ain't no cheap romance (Ask Guildenstern and Rosencrantz) The day Ophelia died I kept on thinking: To be or to other-than-be? That's the question! Screw depression! Death sounds painless to me This too too solid flesh should melt melt like brie And resolve into a fondue for me Serve it with some crumpets and tea Oh, and there we were all in one place Equipped with poison, swords, and Mace With Fortune there to shape our ends So come on - fence me nimble, fence me quick Don't tase me, bro, with your tainted prick Or bet your royal ass we're foiled again So Laertes and I both got poked Mom drank some Chinese lead-based Coke The king was S.O.L. Thus ends his sworded tale: I said, My name ees Hamlet Junior, guy You keeled my dad; prepare to die (Yes, I stole that from The Princess Bride) The day King Claudius died Here's the question: To be or choose alternately? That's the question I'm processin' in Scene I of Act III To end these shocks or bear them heart-achingly, Quoting Sonnet Number 73? (That one's too depressing for me) I met a girl named Juliet And her boyfriend, whose name I forget (What's in a name, man, anyway?) I led Othello to his death And made life a bitch for King Macbeth Till the Bard said, Dude, you're in a different play So meanwhile back at Elsinore A bunch of guys come to mop the floor It's Fortinbras's legions I guess we're now Norwegians And the three co-stars I riled most: Laertes, Mom, and King Claudi-os Went off to hang with Daddy's ghost The day Prince Hamlet died I see dead people... To be or choose oppositely? Are we tougher if we suffer indefatigably Or take up arms against a turbulent sea Of the troubles fortune's slinging at me? Screw it - let's go watch some TV We were thinking: To be or to not freaking be That's the question we're obsessin' 'bout interminably But as for us, the answer's clear: Not to be Caught in this Shakespearean tragedy! Good-night, sweet prince. I'm not quite dead...

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