Yeah Write

I’ve travelled back in time to meet with William Shakespeare My research turned up something and it’s that that brought me here He was meant to be so clever And I need to find out whether It’s true that he can even write if he is full of beer I understand he wrote a sonnet standing on his head And scrawled a limerick while he was falling out of bed He’d write while he was pulling weeds He’d write while he was sowing seeds And even during cuddles with his wife, or so she said My Time Machine took many years to build and then perfect So I could check out facts too long ago to recollect With thirty-eight plays; give or take I’ll prove that Shakespeare was a fake I think perhaps old Shakespeare led some kind of weirdo sect So here I am in Shakespeare’s house, where Anne is baking cakes He’s writing, judging by the sound a quill on paper makes Anne said, “My Bill is writing now, His quill makes that unholy row I’ll ask him to come talk to you… as soon as he awakes.”