[Intro :lute arpeggios] [Verse 1] In a timbered house by Avon’s tide, A glover’s boy with stars inside, Ink-stained fingers, country air, Dreams too large for village square. He stole the moon from market night, Turned gossip into candlelight, And every sigh the lovers made He trapped in lines that never fade. [Pre-Chorus] From Stratford lanes to London’s roar, He slipped through every tavern door, With quill in hand and reckless grace, He built a thousand human faces. [Chorus] Oh William of the restless page, King of fools and crown of sage, You gave the world its mirrored heart, In daggered word and broken part. From kings who fall to clowns who sing, You made the wooden “O” a ring Where all the world could storm and sigh, And live, and love, and laugh, and die. [Instrumental break] [Verse 2] A jealous Moor with poisoned trust, A Scottish lord undone by lust, Two star-crossed kids in borrowed night, A forest thick with fairy light. He dressed up truth in rags and lace, Put mud and majesty in one embrace, Let witches whisper, ghosts complain, And turned our grief to golden pain. [Pre-Chorus] The plague would close the city gates, But still he argued hands with fates, While actors stamped against the cold And waited for the crowd to hold. [Instrumental break] [Chorus] Oh William of the crowded stage, Thunder-voice of every age, You taught the tyrant how to kneel, You showed the fool what kings can feel. In soliloquy and sword’s bright arc, You lit a lantern in the dark— And made the fragile breath of men Resound like trumpets now and then. [Bridge] Was it the ale? Was it the ink? Or something sharper made him think? A country lad with London eyes Who measured heaven in disguise. He heard the heartbeat under speech, Found storms in words we could not reach, And in a line of iambs neat He made eternity complete. [Final Chorus] Oh William, still we speak your tongue, Four hundred years and still so young, Your stage is dust, your bones are still, But every actor bends your will. So raise a cup in Stratford town, For quill and skull and paper crown For while we breathe and dare to rage, We walk with Shakespeare on the stage. 🎭
