Art's not only long;
it's almost always wrong.
it's almost always wrong.
April's not the cru'lest month.
(That's gotta be December.)
The quality of mercy's very strain'd,
as you'll remember.
"To be or not to be...?"
is not the question, most have found.
And I believe that ev'ry man's an island,
pound for pound.
"To be or not to be...?"
is not the question, most have found.
And I believe that ev'ry man's an island,
pound for pound.
In point of fact, I don't have
miles to go before I sleep.
And a thing of beauty's not a joy forever
(read 'n' weep!),
nor is hope a thing with feathers.
Let me summarize my theme:
No: the world's not too much with us.
No: the world's not too much with us.
Yes: life is an empty dream.
