Album: Kisses 50 cent

Every Poet Wants To Murder Shakespeare

Every poet wants to murder Shakespeare
We抮e just pissing on the grave of what went on before
And everyone invents the world the day that they were born
Something抯 going on here and it抯 going on without me
I抦 standing on the precipice and counting all my recipes
I抦 sick and tired of paying homage to the altar
Of the things that went before me when I wasn抰 born to be there

Every poet wants to murder Shakespeare
We抮e just pissing on the grave of what went on before
And everyone invents the world the day that they were born

There抯 a painting of my lover in the corner
She抯 taken off her clothing and she抯 standing in the rain
Seems like she抯 beckoning for me to come and join her
But she抯 trapped inside a painting and I抦 running out of patience

I sip a pint of beer and marvel at the magic
I must be as drunk as Mister Marlowe in his prime
I stumble through the shambles of my own imagination
慍ause the poet of tomorrow will be just as drunk as I am

Every poet wants to murder Shakespeare
We抮e just pissing on the grave of what went on before
And everyone invents the world the day that they were born
Every poet wants to murder Shakespeare
We抮e just pissing on the grave of what went on before
And everyone invents the world the day that they were born
Every poet wants to murder Shakespeare...