(or why I will never watch a play again)

Once there was a simple tune,
It played out fa-la-so...
And when the singers start to croon,
It's time to start the show...

The curtain rises,
The orchestra reprises,
And the actors come on stage,
Wearing costumes of the age, hooray,

The audience applaud,
And the actors prance on board,
As the music plays the theme,
Of a Midsummer's Nights Dream...

The Fairy King and Queen they look so ethereal,
And Bottom with his donkey head and Abigail,

The first act closes,
And the orchestra composes,
The intermission song,
As the lines to leave are long,

But a few minutes later,
In the lobby of the theater,
The light begin to flutter,
As the audience does mutter,

Then as Shakespearean plays go,
Where the heroes and their foes,
For the virtues of their ladies progress,
And when, as the audience blows,
With a sniffle of their nose,
At the bittersweet end, but I digress,

The play ends,
And all the actors bend,
As the lights go up and whence,
Loud applause from the audience,

The curtain falls,
And the actors bitch and spat,
Of the hack that Shakespeare was,
"Why couldn't he have written Cats?"

That's theater,
Such an artform never finer,
Struggling actors who are waiters,
In the day time in the diner.

And that's why I'll never watch a play again...
[The End]