Kate Tempest - My Shakespeare lyrics
[Kate Tempest - My Shakespeare lyrics]
He's in every lover who
Ever stood alone beneath a window
In every jealous whispered word
In every ghost that will not rest
He's in every father with a favourite
Every eye that stops to linger
On what someone else has got
And feels the tightening in their chest
He's in every young man growing boastful
Every worn out elder, drunk all day
Muttering false prophecies and
Squandering their lot
He's there - in every mix-up that s
Pirals far out of control -
And never seems to end
Even when its beginnings are forgot
He's in every girl who ever used her
Wits. Who ever did her best
In every vain admirer
Every passionate, ambitious social climber
And in every misheard word
That ever led to tempers fraying
Every pawn that moves exactly
As the player wants it to
And still remains convinced that
It's not playing
He's in every star crossed lover
In every thought that ever set your teeth on edge
In every breathless hero
Stepping closer to the ledge
His is the method in our madness
As pure as the driven snow -
His is the hair standing on end
He saw that all that glittered was not gold
He knew we hadn't slept a wink
And that our hearts were upon our sleeves
And that the beast with two
Backs had us all upon
Our knees as we fought fire with fire
He knew that too much of a good thing
Can leave you up in arms
The pen is mightier than the sword
Still his words seem to sing
Our names as they strike
And his is the milk of human kindness
Warm enough to break the ice - his
The green eyed monster, in a pickle
Still, discretion is the better part of valour
His letters with their arms around each other's shoulders
Swagger towards the ends of their sentences
Pleased with what they've done
His words are the setting for our stories -
He has become a poet who poetics have
Embedded themselves deep within
The fabric of our language
He's in our mouths
His words have tangled round our own
And given rise to expressions so effective
In expressing how we feel
We can't imagine how we'd
Feel without them
See - he's less the tights
And garters - more the
Sons demanding answers
From the absence of their fathers
The hot darkness of your last embrace
He's in the laughter of the night before
The tightened jaw of the morning after
He's in us. Part and parcel of
Our Royals and our rascals
He's more than something taught in classrooms
In language that's hard to understand
He's more than a feeling of inadequacy
When we sit for our exams
He's in every wise woman
Every pitiful villain
Every great king
Every sore loser, every fake tear
His legacy exists in the life
That lives in everything he's written
And me
I see him everywhere
He's my Shakespeare
Ever stood alone beneath a window
In every jealous whispered word
In every ghost that will not rest
He's in every father with a favourite
Every eye that stops to linger
On what someone else has got
And feels the tightening in their chest
He's in every young man growing boastful
Every worn out elder, drunk all day
Muttering false prophecies and
Squandering their lot
He's there - in every mix-up that s
Pirals far out of control -
And never seems to end
Even when its beginnings are forgot
He's in every girl who ever used her
Wits. Who ever did her best
In every vain admirer
Every passionate, ambitious social climber
And in every misheard word
That ever led to tempers fraying
Every pawn that moves exactly
As the player wants it to
And still remains convinced that
It's not playing
He's in every star crossed lover
In every thought that ever set your teeth on edge
In every breathless hero
Stepping closer to the ledge
His is the method in our madness
As pure as the driven snow -
His is the hair standing on end
He saw that all that glittered was not gold
He knew we hadn't slept a wink
And that our hearts were upon our sleeves
And that the beast with two
Backs had us all upon
Our knees as we fought fire with fire
He knew that too much of a good thing
Can leave you up in arms
The pen is mightier than the sword
Still his words seem to sing
Our names as they strike
And his is the milk of human kindness
Warm enough to break the ice - his
The green eyed monster, in a pickle
Still, discretion is the better part of valour
His letters with their arms around each other's shoulders
Swagger towards the ends of their sentences
Pleased with what they've done
His words are the setting for our stories -
He has become a poet who poetics have
Embedded themselves deep within
The fabric of our language
He's in our mouths
His words have tangled round our own
And given rise to expressions so effective
In expressing how we feel
We can't imagine how we'd
Feel without them
See - he's less the tights
And garters - more the
Sons demanding answers
From the absence of their fathers
The hot darkness of your last embrace
He's in the laughter of the night before
The tightened jaw of the morning after
He's in us. Part and parcel of
Our Royals and our rascals
He's more than something taught in classrooms
In language that's hard to understand
He's more than a feeling of inadequacy
When we sit for our exams
He's in every wise woman
Every pitiful villain
Every great king
Every sore loser, every fake tear
His legacy exists in the life
That lives in everything he's written
And me
I see him everywhere
He's my Shakespeare