some spirit just told me
my uncle's gonna fold me
i'm not the sharpest knife in the drawer
but he took the danish crown
and he's married to my mom
and i think he killed his brother for power

well the clues start coming
and they won't stop coming
put on a play and sent the man running
doesn't make sense to anyone
your words fly up
but your thoughts stay down

so much to do, so much to see
get yourself off to a nunnery
you'll never be killed if you ****
you'll always be loved until—

hey now, you're ophelia,
girl i feel ya, go away
hey now, prince of denmark,
get the show on, this play
to be or not to be
the soul of wit is brevity

hell's a hot place
and they say it gets hotter
you're bundled up now
wait til you're underwater
frailty thy name is woman
judging from the mess in your sheets
ya sinnin'

learn to skate
when the ice gets thin
wear all your clothes
and go for a swim
doubt the stars are fire
doubt truth to be a liar

hey now, stab a rat still,
did i just **** claudius?
hey now, prince of denmark,
half depressed, half glorious
to be or not to be
you can't play a flute
and you can't play me

hey non nonny
hey non nonny
hey non nonny, hey, hey

poor yorick alas
i well knew his clown ***
kissed him square on the lips, and he's dirt now
and i said hey, even kings decay
might stop a hole to keep the wind away
and i'd quite like to sleep in the earth now

well my folks start dying
and they don't stop dying
bear what ills you have instead of flying
unmask your beauty to the moon
can't see him now
but you'll smell him soon

so much to do, so much to see
here's some rue and here's some rosemary
you'll never be killed if you ****
you'll always be loved until—

hey now, hold your cup high,
to health of our thane!
hey now, prince of denmark,
hamlet, thou art slain!
to be or not to be!
i do not set my life on a pin's fee

to be or not to be!
you can't play a flute
and you can't play me

To hollow bones I had been born,
my weight, then, led their flight;
But you had so much heavier borne,
that I was feather-light.

I'm captain of my struggle ship today,
Throughout the toss and turn and slip and slide.
Without a map to set me on my way,
The treacherous and rising sea I ride.

The walls will leak, the sails will tear and give;
The wind will run the struggle ship aground.
But I will try to bodge and steer and live
Until my fabled pirate treasure's found.

'Til then, behold the struggle ship afloat
Upon a sea of thick and boiling oil,
Composed of sails of lace and petticoat,
And hulls of sandalwood and silver foil.

If others pass the storm that we all take,
At least I prove the weakness was my make.

In the rain he walks, dejected.
— What a tired little soul! —
Keeps the air of one rejected
As his only living goal.
Why, a butterfly would irk him
If it landed on his shoe,
And I bet no-one could work him
Though he hasn't much to do.
In his pretty melancholy
He will loiter in the park
Where the gentlemen will call; he
Mutters Shakespeare in the dark,
Making it his lame ambition
Just to wear a lover thin —
As he's failed his lover's mission,
Why should anyone else win?
So he walks, pretentious *****,
All a-trimmed in mourning black
And he drinks his bitter coffee
Then he goes to hit the sack.
He pretends there's some great novel
That he's keeping in his mind
So he locks up in his hovel,
Where he takes his ****** time.
He will play chess solitary
As he's drowning in his spleen,
Saying how he'll never marry
As he captures his own queen —
Why, a kiss would surely burn him,
If someone would have the gall!
And to love I couldn't turn him
If he's ever loved at all.

Alighting on a night illuminated by the moon,
With air so hot and heavy you could slice it with a spoon,
They perched on a precarious branch and barely moved a leaf;
The angel peered inside my head and poured in all the grief.
They sank a toe into the depth and found it rather cold,
So warmed it up by stirring up some lies I never told.
The angel, sitting on my skull, was wading ankle-deep;
They sank the stars into the sea to see how I would weep.
They painted eyes onto the shadows just to see me start,
And then, because they could, they hung a weight upon my heart.
The angel counted every breath by dancing on my chest,
And hit me with their arrows every time I tried to rest.
When I was drowning in my eyes and deathly still and numb,
The angel left as quietly and quickly as they'd come.

Seeking out the strongest signal,
All my mind is radio static.
Though I have no holy hymnal
Shouldn’t this be automatic?
Some say you are wind and water,
Some say you reside in Rome.
But I knock, and get no answer;
God, are you not home?

i could catch up with campus news
or criticise this prose,
but all i really wanna do's
lie down and decompose.
i didn't even do the SET,
no preenlistment run;
how am i this exhausted when
i've still got nothing done?
and yes, it makes the flowers grow
to think of what i can,
but looking at my acads now
i don't see much to stan.