Woods of Birnam

out all
all our yesterdays
have lighted fools
out, out brief candle!
'morrow and tomorrow
fretting on stage
then is heard no more
life is but a poor player
life is but a tale
full of sound and fury and exuberance
told to us by an idiot
who stands upon the stage and then
then is heard no more
a tale
the way to dusty death
from day to day
signifying nothing
'morrow and tomorrow
strutting on stage
'till the last syllable of time
life is but a poor player
life is but a tale
full of sound and fury and exuberance
told to us by an idiot
who stands upon the stage and then
then is heard no more