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"All the world's a stage"

A friend of mine, he sometimes said

But though he tried to show the way

They only care about his name

"Love is for the fool"

A blind old man, he always said

But of its joys he sometimes spoke

And then it seemed, he could see

"Life is for the strong,"

A travelling monk, he told me once

But of the weak, he never spoke

Though their cries beat on his ears

I stood, my gun in hand

The swallow flew to meet his love

And as they touched, I shot him down

But now it's me that can't fly