"All the world's a stage"
A friend of mine, he sometimes said
And 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
But as they touched, I shot him down
But now it's me that can't fly
