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!

This is the 27th in a series of pop-music parodies for Shakespeare fans.

Enjoy!

Saying Sooth
sung to the tune of “Bulletproof”

(With apologies to La Roux, and sayers of sooth…)

Looked there, saw that, got a sense;
I know your fate, don’t take offense.
Your future isn’t looking too upbeat.
I don’t mean to sound too harsh,
But please beware the Ides of March,
It’s a day for just not going in.

I bring you news that can’t be worse,
I have a gift, but it’s a curse;
My prophecy, surprisingly concrete.
Looked there, saw that, got a sense;
I know your fate, don’t take offense.
Your future isn’t looking too upbeat.

Hear me, Caesar.
I am saying sooth.
Hear me, Caesar.
I am saying sooth.

I won’t let you turn around,
Dismiss me now without a sound,
To show that you’re no easy man to scare.
Do, do, do your new accords,
Protect your skin from traitors’ swords?
The Ides of March are what you should beware.

Tick, tick, tick on the dial;
Your wife’s bad dreams beyond denial,
The Ides of March have come but haven’t gone.
I won’t let you turn around,
Dismiss me now without a sound:
A risky thing for betting your life on.

Hear me, Caesar.
I am saying sooth.
Hear me, Caesar.
I am saying sooth.

Hear me, I am saying sooth.
Hear me, I am saying sooth.

Hear me, Caesar.
I am saying sooth.
Hear me, Caesar.
I am saying sooth.

This is the 26th in a series of pop-music parodies for Shakespeare fans.

Enjoy!

Three Caskets
sung to the tune of “Four Minutes”

(With apologies to Madonna, Justin Timberlake, and Timbaland)

I’m on the spot
And gotta choose from three caskets,
(Fricki, fricki) three caskets. Hey!

Hey, come on, Portia.

Come on boy,
I’ve been waiting for somebody
To come pass this test.

Now, don’t waste time,
Tell me the rules,
Let me prove that I am the best.

Read each inscription,
Choose the right one,
And then open the lid.
Inside one, I am hid.

Girl, I can solve this test,
Just gotta show me where they are.
I’ll do as you have bid;
You’ll be glad that I did.

If you choose now,
You could lose now.
Take some more time;
No harm in pushing it back.

If I pick right,
And, hey, I just might,
This ordeal ends,
For now I’m living on the rack.

Choose the right box.

Gotta choose from three caskets to win the girl.

Loose the tight locks.
You’re my man!

You’re my world!

Choose the right box.

Gotta choose from three caskets to win the girl.

Loose the tight locks.

Gotta choose from three caskets, uh huh, three caskets.

Come, give it up.
No need to be so shy, lock.

You gotta read my thoughts:
(pick lead, pick lead, pick lead)

That’s right, come, give it up.
No need to be so shy, lock.

You gotta read my thoughts:
(pick lead, pick lead, pick lead)

Remember, this suitor test
Was my father’s invention, yeah.

So the Silver one holds what I deserve,
And then the Gold
Has what all men desire.

All that glisters isn’t gold, I should mention, yeah.

But if I choose the Lead,
It means I would give and hazard
All that I have for you.
Which I’d gladly do.

If you choose now,
You could lose now.
Take some more time;
No harm in pushing it back.

If I pick right,
And, hey, I just might,
This ordeal ends,
For now I’m living on the rack.

Choose the right box.

Gotta choose from three caskets to win the girl.

Loose the tight locks.
You’re my man!

You’re my world!

Choose the right box.

Gotta choose from three caskets to win the girl.

Loose the tight locks.

Gotta choose from three caskets, uh huh, three caskets.

Come, give it up.
No need to be so shy, lock.

You gotta read my thoughts:
(pick lead, pick lead, pick lead)

That’s right, come, give it up.
No need to be so shy, lock.

You gotta read my thoughts:
(pick lead, pick lead, pick lead)

Time to choose, yeah.

(pick lead, pick lead, pick lead)

Gonna choose the Lead casket… and there’s the girl.

This is the 25th in a series of pop-music parodies for Shakespeare fans.

Enjoy!

End It Well
sung to the tune of “Gives You Hell”

(With apologies to The All-American Rejects, and everyone else as well…)

I’m watching your work, Shakespeare,
With some tension in my face:
It’s one of your lesser-known plays.
Your heroine is risking
Her life on this rash chase;
I wonder how well that pays.

When you plan your plot,
Hope you end it well,
Hope you end it well.
When you write that play,
Hope you end it well,
Hope you end it well.

Now that part all worked out, though
The men have now gone to war,
And I’ve seen this plot before…
But still I’d really like to know
What this play has at its core,
Before I watch any more.

It’s better with a wedding.
It’s better than them dying.

When you plan your plot,
Hope you end it well,
Hope you end it well.
When you write that play,
Hope you end it well,
Hope you end it well.

If they sing a song,
As they dance along,
That would be swell.
Even if they don’t,
It should end well,
Hope you end it well.

I hope you end it well!

Bertram now thinks Helena is dead.
That’s often a very bad sign,
But it could still finish fine.

It’s better with a wedding.
It’s better than them dying.

When you plan your plot,
Hope you end it well,
Hope you end it well.
When you write that play,
Hope you end it well,
Hope you end it well.

If they sing a song,
As they dance along,
That would be swell.
Even if they don’t,
It should end well,
Hope you end it well.

It’s a “Problem Play.”
This could go either way.
Hope it won’t end like Tragedies;
They cause me dismay.
I’d try out a Romance,
Give a History a chance,
But I much prefer those Comedies you end so well.

When you plan your plot,
Hope you end it well,
Hope you end it well.
When you write that play,
Hope you end it well,
Hope you end it well.

If they sing a song,
As they dance along,
That would be swell.
Even if they don’t,
It should end well,
Hope you end it well.

When you plan your plot,
Hope you end it well,
Hope you end it well.
When you write that play,
Hope you end it well,
Hope you end it well.

If you’d end Act Five,
With them still alive,
That would be swell.
Some epilogue
Might end it well,
Hope you end it well.

When you end your play, I hope that you will end it well.

All will be well, as long as you will end it well.

This is the 24th in a series of pop-music parodies for Shakespeare fans.

Enjoy!

Valentine
rapped to the beat of “Back in Time”

(With apologies to Pitbull, and the Men in Black franchise…)

Please excuse me, lady.
Oh, yeah you, lady.
Now, let’s do Shakespeare, lady.
Yeah, let’s stage a play here, lady.

Please excuse me, lady.
Oh, yeah you, lady.
Now, let’s do Shakespeare, lady.
Yeah, let’s stage a play here, lady.

The Two Gentlemen.
Of Verona. In Milan.
At the Duke’s palace,
Proteus, Valentine, now it’s on.

Julia, oh Julia,
Oh, Julia, my sweet Julia,
You’re the one!

Milan equals doublet and hose, knee-length socks,
With a tanned leather belt to tie; I’ve got it!
Puffy sleeves, fancy shoes, a high stiff collar, and a feathered cap.
Like Valentine or Thurio, impress Silvia if they could, okay.
I’m tryna be reptilian with a friend pretense,
Underhanded, no-good,
I’m a liar, a cheat, a fabricator, and a
Falsifier, equivocator, out of hand a
Trickster, dissimulator, as I planned a
Way that I can consummate her.
To wrong my friend this way, much shame will be mine.
But to satisfy Proteus, I have to cross Valentine.

Silvia, oh Silvia,
Oh, Silvia, my sweet Silvia,
You’re the one!

I got the girl, yeah, out in the wood,
To win her over, any way I could.
That’s when you came.
Two Gentlemen, we meet again.
I professed my love. It wasn’t enough.
And then I just lost control, got a little bit rough.
I’m glad you came and intervened.
I hope that I can still be redeemed.
You know I’m sorry, I couldn’t fool ya,
And Sebastian’s identity learned: it’s Julia.
To behave this way, much shame has been mine.
But to reconcile Proteus, I have to love Valentine.

Julia, oh Julia,
Oh, Julia, my sweet Julia,
You’re the one!

This is the 23rd in a series of pop-music parodies for Shakespeare fans.

Enjoy!

Iachimo
sung to the tune of “Domino”

(With apologies to Jessie J, and any readers who are getting tired of the song parodies…)

You’re bragging about your bride,
Across your empty glass of scotch.
Our nation also has pride;
I need to take you down a notch.

You’re insisting that your woman is both honest and fair,
But I’m betting that my charms will soon be taking her there.
Don’t you know? It’s out of your control.

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh…
I can describe her room,
And her body; don’t fume.
Buddy, I won!
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh,
One was silver and silk,
And the other smooth as milk.
Buddy, I won!
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh…

Should have tried to win my bet outright,
And on losing should have left alone.
Yes, I should have been more forthright,
But I lied because I’m Iachimo.

Now all the facts have come to light,
And all my misdeeds have become too well known.
Yes, I should have been more forthright,
But I lied because I’m Iachimo.

This is the 22nd in a series of pop-music parodies for Shakespeare fans.

Enjoy!

Blocked from Succession
sung to the tune of “Locked out of Heaven”

(With apologies to Bruno Mars, and the royal family…)

Oh, yeah, yeah.
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Ooh!

Oh, yeah, yeah.
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Ooh!

To avoid a legitimacy disaster,
You worked out an arrangement to be fair:
That Henry finish out his reign as Lancaster,
And York would then become his legal heir.

But your deal makes me feel paralyzed.
Yeah, your deal makes me feel paralyzed.
And it’s wrong, yeah, yeah, yeah.

‘Cause it means that my son
Will be blocked from succession
To the throne, to the throne.
Yeah, it means that my son
Will be blocked from succession
To the throne,
To the throne.

Oh, yeah, yeah.
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Ooh!

Oh, yeah, yeah.
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Ooh!

You boasted of your high descent,
In front of Parliament;
You can wear this impressive paper crown.
I’ve a tiger’s heart that’s wrapped in a woman’s hide,
And I won’t let you take this family down.

‘Cause your deal makes me feel paralyzed.
Yeah, your deal makes me feel paralyzed.
And it’s wrong, yeah, yeah, yeah.

‘Cause it means that my son
Will be blocked from succession
To the throne, to the throne.
Yeah, it means that my son
Will be blocked from succession
To the throne,
To the throne.

Oh, oh, oh, oh, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Now, off with his head;
Take time to do him dead.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Now, off with his head;
Take time to do him dead.

‘Cause it means that my son
Won’t be blocked from succession
To the throne, to the throne.
Yeah, it means that my son
Won’t be blocked from succession
To the throne,
To the throne.

A friend asked me if I was going to do song parodies for all of Shakespeare’s plays.

I don’t know if I can commit to that right now, but if I were going to do it, at some point I’d probably have to resort to something like this.

Enjoy!

The Title
sung to the tune of “The Fighter”

(With apologies to Gym Class Heroes, Ryan Tedder, and every teacher who ever had to put up with me…)

Yo!

I want to tell you about these two key men.
It’s not a tale of one or three men.
I don’t think these are identical twin men,
But I do know at the least that they are kinsmen.
A kinsman’s a relation, you know, like a cousin.
You could have a few or you could have several dozen.
These men are related to more than a few men,
But please remember there are only two men.

And not just two kinsmen, but these two are noble,
A big deal for a culture not socially mobile.
And these two noble kinsmen can get into adventures,
And that’s why Shakespeare and Fletcher wrote this play.

You’ve a parody up ahead,
About a play you haven’t read.
You have lyrics to fill;
How you gonna do it?

Shakespeare fan, Bard lover,
Judge that book by its cover.
A few words, takes no time,
It is clear to me, clear to me, clear to me:
It’s in the title; it’s in the title,
Right in the title.
It’s become clear to me, clear to me, clear to me:
Just read the title.

Noble’s like a duke or prince,
And if they’re both noble it kind of makes sense,
Because noble was something that came from birth,
Not like today when we talk about inner worth.

So if one kinsman’s noble, the other is, too.
If your kinsman’s noble, then so are you.
And there are exactly two: don’t add a third,
And a single kinsman is absurd.

You’ve a parody up ahead,
About a play you haven’t read.
You have lyrics to fill;
How you gonna do it?

Shakespeare fan, Bard lover,
Judge that book by its cover.
A few words, takes no time,
It is clear to me, clear to me, clear to me:
It’s in the title; it’s in the title,
Right in the title.
It’s become clear to me, clear to me, clear to me:
Just read the title.

Everybody hold your books up!
What’s that cover say? (Hey!)
What’s that cover say? (Hey!)
What’s that cover say? (Hey!)
What’s that cover say? (Hey!)

You want jokes about Arcite and Palamon (you do!).
But you won’t find them in the tale I’m on (come on!).
‘Cause I’m still a big phony;
I just read the dramatis personae.

Shakespeare fan, Bard lover,
Judge that book by its cover.
A few words, takes no time,
It is clear to me, clear to me, clear to me:
It’s in the title; it’s in the title,
Right in the title.
It’s become clear to me, clear to me, clear to me:
Just read the title.

You’ve a parody up ahead,
About a play you haven’t read.
You have lyrics to fill;
How you gonna do it?

My soul belongs to God, I know;
I made that bargain long ago;
He gave me hope when hope was gone;
He gave me strength to journey on.

Who am I? Who am I?

UPDATE: Riddle solved by Bronx Richie. See comments for answer.