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.”
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