I Shalt Become - Tragedie Of Macbeth: Actus Quintus, Scena Quint lyrics

rate me

To tomorrow, to tomorrow, and to tomorrow

Creepes in this petty pace from day to day,

To the last Syllable of Recorded time:

And all our yesterdays, haue lighted Fooles

The way to dusty death. Out, out breefe Candle,

Life's but a walking Shadow, a poore Player.

That struts and frets his houre vpon the Stage,

And then is heard no more. It is a Tale

Told by an Ideot, full of sound and fury

Signifying nothing.<br />

<br />

Thanks to RAzvan