This is the 37th in a series of 40 pop-music parodies for Shakespeare fans.

Enjoy!

Timon
sung to the tune of “Diamonds”

(With apologies to Rihanna, and those planning to read Timon of Athens… SPOILERS!)

Pass by, cursed by Timon.
Pass by, cursed by Timon.

With joy, I would generous be,
Back when I was wealthy.
I ran dry, I ran dry,
I am Timon, here lie I.

I gave away my money,
A pathway to bankruptcy,
A wretched soul, while alive,
I am Timon, here lie I.

My money gone, my friends fled right away,
Oh, right away!
When I asked them to help me with my creditors,
Every one of them refused my pleas.

A plague consume you wicked caitiffs!
My epitaph: I’m Timon, here lie I.
A wretched soul, while alive,
My epitaph: I’m Timon, here lie I.

Pass by, cursed by Timon.
Pass by, cursed by Timon.
Pass by, cursed by Timon.
My epitaph: I’m Timon, here lie I.

Pass by, cursed by Timon.
Pass by, cursed by Timon.
Pass by, cursed by Timon.
My epitaph: I’m Timon, here lie I.

This is the 36th in a series of 40 pop-music parodies for Shakespeare fans.

Enjoy!

Courtships
sung to the tune of “Starships”

(With apologies to Nicki Minaj – she knows why…)

Touchtone
Went into the wood, could
Woo his Audrey,
And he said, they would wed, if she’d agree.
It was a nervous service, led by a vicar,
Which is unofficial, so he could leave her quicker.
But at least a priest wed them with us;
A contract is a fact, nothing to discuss.
As it turned out, they got along;
Three years gone by, and they’re still going strong.

Phebe’d abhor, abhor
Her would-be man:
A shepherd poor, poor,
She could not stand.
But she fell for, for,
My little scam,
Did what she swore, swore,
Now look at them!

Courtships, based on a lie,
You’d think would quickly die,
But may be worth a try;
It happens all the time.

Courtships, based on a lie,
You’d think would quickly die,
It happens all the time.
Worth a try…

A liar makes a lively lover!
A liar makes a lively lover!
A liar makes a lively lover!

Your brother met a shepherd girl;
He thought that.
Her simple manners won his heart;
He knew that.
But she was a princess; he didn’t get mad.
If you think it through, it isn’t so bad.
Blow, blow, thou winter wind.

Every honest lover has to say, say, say,
The complete truth and today’s that day,
Finally explain that resemblance uncanny,
My name was Rosalind, as you called me Gany.

So you fell for, for,
My little scam,
Did what you swore, swore,
And here I am!

Courtships, based on a lie,
You’d think would quickly die,
But may be worth a try;
It happens all the time.

Courtships, based on a lie,
You’d think would quickly die,
It happens all the time.
Worth a try…

A liar makes a lively lover!

This is the 35th in a series of 40 pop-music parodies for Shakespeare fans.

Enjoy!

Legionnaire
sung to the tune of “Billionaire”

(With apologies to Travie McCoy and… Bruno Mars, again?)

You know I’ve been a legionnaire so very long.
A well-trained army keeps the empire strong.
I’ve fought in armed conflict for my native Rome,
Keeping all our people safe at home.

Oh, every time I close my eyes
I feel consumed with battle cries.
I’m always ready for a fight, alright.
I swear, my foes better prepare,
‘Cause I’m a legionnaire!

Yeah, I went against the Volscians,
Fighting alongside Cominius.
A fine Roman he is.
At Corioles, I took the lead on an attack.
At first, the enemy was able to beat us back.
Then I managed to break open the city gates,
Which as you would think sealed the Volscian’s fates.
I got a title for playing a heroic role.
You can call me Marcius, minus the Coriol.
Ha, ha, get it? I’d probably see if I could make a run
For a public office, like consul, imagine if I’d won.
Yeah, I’d be a big deal once I’m elected.
Everywhere I go I’d be feared and respected.

Oh, every time I close my eyes
I feel consumed with battle cries.
I’m always ready for a fight, alright.
I swear, my foes better prepare,
‘Cause I’m a legionnaire!

I’ll get the support of the Roman Senate,
Whipping up the delegates.
Then I’ll ask the plebes, only in the name of etiquette.
They’re not too important, but just for the heck of it.
The plebes and the patricians should be completely separate.
For crows to peck at eagles, I can’t really back it.
I’ve earned my accession, it’s too bad if you balk at it.
I see you take offense at this. I don’t really care,
And you want to banish me which is really unfair,
When I fought in your wars. Who are you to judge me,
Eating good, sleeping soundly?
And you think you can banish me?
I banish you, you’ll no longer have
Coriolanus to kick around.

You know I’ve been a legionnaire so very long.
A well-trained army keeps the empire strong.
I’ve fought in armed conflict for my native Rome,
Keeping all our people safe at home.

Oh, every time I close my eyes
I feel consumed with battle cries.
I’m always ready for a fight, alright.
I swear, Rome better prepare,
‘Cause I’m a legionnaire!

You know I’ve been a legionnaire so very long.

This is the 34th in a series of 40 pop-music parodies for Shakespeare fans.

Enjoy!

Full Stop
sung to the tune of “Thrift Shop”

(With apologies to Macklemore, Ryan Lewis, and Wanz…)

Hey, Shakespeare! Can you write some poetry?

Da DUM Da DUM Da DUM Da DUM Da DUM
Da DUM Da DUM Da DUM Da DUM Da DUM
Da DUM Da DUM Da DUM Da DUM Da DUM
Da DUM Da DUM Da DUM Da DUM Da DUM

ABAB CDCD EFEF GG
ABAB CDCD EFEF GG
ABAB CDCD EFEF GG
ABAB CDCD EFEF GG

I’m gonna write some verse.
Only got fourteen lines in a sonnet:
I-I-Iambic Pentameter,
With a given rhyme scheme.

Nah, take up the quill like “What up? Gonna write a lot.”
Three quatrains and a couplet ending in a full stop.
Ink on the parchment, I’m so close on it,
That people like “Damn! That’s a perfect sonnet.”
Gonna get hella deep, compare thee to a summer’s day,
But it’s all in your favor, ‘cause thou art lovelier, if I may.
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

Yes!
It doesn’t even have to make sense!

Thinkin’ it, Writin’ it, Let me confess that we two must be twain.
Our undivided loves are one, so shall those blots with me remain.
Sometimes I write for my favorite young man,
Or else it’s the Dark Lady and…
Starting a new one, it’s: O! How thy worth with manners may I sing?
What can praise to myself bring? What can praise to myself bring?
No, for real – what a torment would thy absence prove?
Better entertain the time with thoughts of love,
Immortalized in poetry that I’ve been writin’.
You shall shine more bright in this powerful rhyme
Than gilded monuments besmear’d with sluttish time.
Hello, Hello, Good e’en, good fellow!
Petrarch ain’t got nothing on my rhyme schemes, hell no!
I could take them to the printer, bind them up, sell those.
The tavern gang would be like “Aw, he got the Quartos.”

I’m gonna write some verse.
Only got fourteen lines in a sonnet:
I-I-Iambic Pentameter,
With a given rhyme scheme.

I’m gonna write some verse.
Only got fourteen lines in a sonnet:
I-I-Iambic Pentameter,
With a given rhyme scheme.

Let me not impede the marriage of true minds.
Love’s not love which alters when it alteration finds.
If this be, If this be error, and upon me prov’d,
I never writ, nor no man ever lov’d.
Thank God, my mistress’s eyes are nothing like the sun.
Her hairs be wires and her breasts be dun.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
Chiasmus, Ekphrasis, Litotes, Ellipsis…
I use all those Greek devices, so much more than any other.
Though I know she lies, I believe my tender lover,
And that allows us both to be flattered by each other.
She be like “Oh, he believes me that I am full of truth.”
I’m like “O, she thinks that I am some untutored youth.”
It’s an illusion, just a mutual delusion.
Full of truth? To think that I’m a youth?
No, I think that I am long in the tooth.
But I lie with her, and she with me,
And in our faults by lies we flatter’d be.
I still love her so.
Those lips that Love’s own hand did make
Breathed forth the sound that said “I hate,”
To me that languished for her sake,
So I wrote her a sonnet, she thought it was great.

She thought it was great.

Good Will! Write some verse! Yeah!

I’m gonna write some verse.
Only got fourteen lines in a sonnet:
I-I-Iambic Pentameter,
With a given rhyme scheme.

I share with you, my friend:
To Mr. W.H.,
These poems that I penned,
With a full stop at the end.

I share with you, my friend:
To Mr. W.H.,
These poems that I penned,
With a full stop at the end.

I’m gonna write some verse.
Only got fourteen lines in a sonnet:
I-I-Iambic Pentameter,
With a given rhyme scheme.

Is that a full stop at the end?

This is the 33rd in a series of 40 pop-music parodies for Shakespeare fans.

Enjoy!

The Crazy Song
sung to the tune of “The Lazy Song”

(With apologies, once again, to Bruno Mars…)

Today, I feel like I have no sanity;
I just may go out of my head.
No sense in sifting through the facts;
I have no causes for my acts,
‘Cause today I swear I just have no sanity.

I’m gonna beg my best friend to prolong his stay.
If he agrees, it proves my wife’s gone astray.
Nobody’s gon’ tell me it can’t.

I’ll poison his drink, make him feel deadly woozy,
Then I’ll turn on my wife, calling her a petty floozy,
‘Cause in my castle, I’m the freakin’ man.

Oh yes, I said it. I said it.
It’s good to be the king.

Today, I feel like I have no sanity;
I just may go out of my head.
No sense in sifting through the facts;
I have no causes for my acts,
‘Cause today I swear I just have no sanity,
No sense at all.

No sense at all.

Tomorrow I’ll wake up, and I’ll call for my guy,
To take the bastard out, and abandon her to die,
And he’ll exit pursued by a bear.
(Omigod! It’s a bear!)
Yeah!

I’ll allow my “winter’s” tale to elide sixteen years,
As Aristotle’s unity of time disappears;
‘Cause when it comes to rules, I don’t care.

Oh yes, I said it. I said it.
It’s good to be the king.

Today, I feel like I have no sanity;
I just may go out of my head.
No sense in sifting through the facts;
I have no causes for my acts,
‘Cause today I swear I just have no sanity,
No sense at all.

I won’t worry ’bout a judging glare,
‘Cause nobody here would dare.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.
I won’t realize the statue’s my wife,
But instead I’ll believe it came to life.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Oh, today, I feel like I have no sanity;
I just may go out of my head.
No sense in sifting through the facts;
I have no causes for my acts,
‘Cause today I swear I just have no sanity.
No sense at all.

No sense at all.

No sense at all.

This is the 32nd in a series of 40 pop-music parodies for Shakespeare fans.

Enjoy!

The Bastard
based on the song “Jack Sparrow”

(With apologies to Lonely Island, Michael Bolton, and the Walt Disney corporation…)

[Messina: Don Pedro, Don John, Leonato, Claudio, Benedick]

P: Signior Claudio, and Signior Benedick, my
dear friend Leonato hath invited you all. I tell
him we shall stay here at the least a month,
and he heartily prays some occasion may
detain us longer.

L: Let me bid you welcome, my lord:
being reconciled to the prince your
brother, I owe you all duty.

J: I thank you:
I am not of many words,
but I thank you.

L: Please it your Grace lead on? [Exit]

J: Boys, let’s get to it…

P: Here we go…

B: Claudio, Benedick, Don Pedro, Don John…

J: Yeah!

C: The night starts now…

B: On Leonato’s tract,
The boys are back!

C: The night starts now!

B: Night starts now,
‘Cause we’re back from the war;
You know we’re all gearing up
For a little R&R.

J: Yeah, yeah!

P: My soldiers proved to be the paragon
Of defenders of the Kingdom of Aragon.

J: Come on!

C: Enemy retreating
As we’re taking to the field;
All the rebels quake and tremble
And they’re quickly gonna yield.
Sword in my hand, and a pistol I’ve got;
You’ll either get cut, get stabbed, or get shot.

J: This is the tale
Of Don John the Bastard;
Stood up to the prince,
And challenged his place.

B: What?

J: Now he’s taken back,
Trusted with a muzzle;
Better a canker in his hedge,
Than a rose in his grace.

P: Yeah, that was kind of weird,
But we’re here catching up;
We’re soldiers back from war,
And now our thoughts have turned to love.

J: Misbegotten.

C: I have set my sights
On Leonato’s daughter;
I liked before the war,
But in peace I think I got her.

J: Half-blooded.

B:Watch it girl, cause I ain’t
Your “getting wed” guy,
More like the “insult you,
And then get inside your head” guy.

J: Yeah, yeah.

B: Beatrice and I
Have been in a merry war,
But to be perfectly honest, I…

J: Now back to the good part!

From the day he was born,
He wore the bar sinister.

B: No!

J: In his melancholy face,
Is a mouth that would bite.

He’s the black sheep of the clan,
The trickster of Messina.

P: Uh huh.

J: But knowing his ill birth,
Can you begrudge him his fight?

B: Yeah, we know what a bastard is.

P: Put the war in the past
And forgive old debts, come on.

J: Illegitimate.

B: What?

J: Love child.

C: No!

P: It’s a time for mirth,
So don’t dwell on birth, come on.

J: Nullius filius.

B: Nope.

J: Bastard-born.

B: Wrong.

C: Don John, we’re really gonna need you to focus up.

J: Roger that, let me show you what I mean.

B: Wait.

J: The prince says he’s on your side,
But it’s really just a ruse.

P: Not true.

J: He wants to win her for himself,
And that is why he woos.

B: Come on.

J: Okay, then pull my finger;
Watch hilarity ensue.

C: No, thank you.

J: Then please allow me to imply
That your lady’s been untrue.

C: Wait, what?

J: (If I can cross him any way,
I bless myself every way.)

This is the tale
Of your mistress Hero;
Take her to wife,
And a cuckold you’ll be!

B: Take it home.

J: Disloyal’s too good
A word for the wicked;
Follow me tonight,
So you all can see.

C: Okay, turns out that Don John is a major bastard.

J: My parents weren’t married.

B: Yup.

P: Yeah, okay.

This is the 31st in a series of 40 pop-music parodies for Shakespeare fans.

Enjoy!

Rights
sung to the tune of “Lights”

(With apologies to Ellie Goulding, and those planning to read King John… SPOILERS!)

I claimed divine rights,
Ruling here on my own.
There is a vague threat,
But the king will not be overthrown.

And I’m not sleeping now;
The French king has forced my hand.
And if I’m staying strong,
I must do something drastic.

You know the rights that boy has to the throne:
He’d claim them when he’s grown.
And so I tell my man he must be strong,
Inform me when he’s gone.

And he’s falling, falling, falling way down,
Falling, falling, falling, down.
You know the rights that boy has to the throne:
He’d claim them when he’s grown.
Oh-oh-oh…

I never thought
I would be king;
Never owned land,
As I’m the youngest brother.

But that changed quickly when
My father and my brothers died:
Now the Bastard is
The only nephew who’s safe.

You know the rights that boy has to the throne:
He’d claim them when he’s grown.
And so I tell my man he must be strong,
Inform me when he’s gone.

And he’s falling, falling, falling way down,
Falling, falling, falling, down.
You know the rights that boy has to the throne:
He’d claim them when he’s grown.
Oh-oh-oh…

This is the 30th in a series of 40 pop-music parodies for Shakespeare fans.

Enjoy!

Navarre Shake
based on the Internet meme featuring “Harlem Shake” by Baauer

(With no apologies…)

[The KING, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAINE are engrossed in study. They ignore BEROWNE, who is dancing wildly while music plays.]

Con los reconquistas!

Hey, Shake!
Hey, Shake!

You can do the Navarre Shake!

[Quick cut. The KING, LONGAVILLE, DUMAINE, and BEROWNE are now all dressed as Muskovites. They are joined by the PRINCESS, ROSALINE, MARIA, and KATHERINE. All eight are dancing wildly as the music plays.]

Con los reconquistas!

Hey, Shake!
Hey, Shake!

Do the Navarre Shake!

Well, I guess I’m doing them all…

This is the 29th in a series of pop-music parodies for Shakespeare fans.

Enjoy!

Prince of Tyre
sung to the tune of “Girl on Fire”

(With apologies to Alicia Keys, and fans of Pericles…)

He’s just a prince and he’s from Tyre.
He comes from overseas;
His name is Pericles.
He’s living in a world so far from Tyre.
Can’t help but to displease
A king he cannot appease.

Oh-oh-oh-oh!
He sought to wed the king’s daughter.
Now he’s stuck in hot water.

Oh-oh-oh-oh!
He solved the king’s riddle.
Now he’s trapped in the middle.

This prince is of Tyre!
This prince is of Tyre.
He’s so far from Tyre.
This prince is of Tyre!

Looks like a knave, but he’s a prince.
He returns home to his land,
Cures a famine with some grain.
A storm wrecks his ship out in the rinse,
Washes up on the sand,
Competes for a bride again.

Oh-oh-oh-oh!
He wins the girl in the match;
She thinks that he’s quite the catch.

Oh-oh-oh-oh!
They have a daughter, and then
A storm wrecks his ship again.

This prince is of Tyre!
This prince is of Tyre.
He’s so far from Tyre.
This prince is of Tyre!

One day Marina to him is led,
After being told she was dead,
And he finds that she’s his girl,
And her mom’s alive in the world.
What a thing to learn, baby, learn, baby…

This prince is of Tyre!
This prince is of Tyre.
He’s so far from Tyre.
This prince is of Tyre!

Oh-oh-oh-oh!
Oh-oh-oh-oh!

He’s just a prince and he’s from Tyre.

This is the 28th in a series of pop-music parodies for Shakespeare fans.

Enjoy!

Dutiful Gloucester
sung to the tune of “Beautiful Monster” by Ne-Yo

(For Janai…)

In your life,
As Lord Protector,
You aim to serve
‘Till the king’s grown.

But your wife,
So ambitious,
Wants to see
You ascend the throne.

But, I don’t mind.
In fact, I like it.
I can use her pride,
And I’ll bring her down with you.

Oh!

Duke of Gloucester,
Dutiful Gloucester,
Dutiful Gloucester,
Must fall behind.

And I’ll use her.
Yes, I’ll use her.
Dutiful Gloucester
Must fall behind.

Must fall behind (fall behind, fall, must fall behind),
Must fall behind (fall behind, fall, must fall behind),
Must fall behind (fall behind, fall, must fall behind),
Must fall behind.

Let her cast
Her magical spells.
Her true heart
Will shine right through.

But, I don’t mind.
In fact, I like it.
I can use her pride,
And I’ll bring her down with you.

Duke of Gloucester (Duke of Gloucester),
Dutiful Gloucester (dutiful Gloucester),
Dutiful Gloucester (dutiful Gloucester),
Must fall behind (fall behind).

And I’ll use her (and I’ll use her),
Yes, I’ll use her (yes, I will use her),
Dutiful Gloucester (dutiful Gloucester),
Must fall behind (fall behind, must fall behind),
Must fall behind.

And she’ll show her heart,
And you’ll be much maligned.

Fall behind, and you’ll fall behind.
Fall behind, and you’ll fall behind.
Fall behind, and you’ll fall behind.
Fall behind, and you’ll fall behind.

You’ll fall behind!