The Play’s the Thing Songtext
von Peter Hammill

How could he know so much?
How could he bear such knowledge?
How could he dare to write it in the plays?
What is it Shakespeare′d say
If he came back today?
Surely he'd recognise these mortal coils

How do we carry on?
No-one knows where they fit in
No-one knows who they are, or where they′ve been
How do we play this scene?
What does the writer mean?
What didn't Shakespeare know that we do now?

Stiffen the sinews
Wear hard-favour'd rage
All history′s drama
The world is a stage


"There is a history in all men′s lives
Figuring the nature of the times deceas'd
The which observ′d, a man may prophesy with a near aim
Of the main chance of things as yet not come to life
Which in their seeds and weak beginnings lie intreasured
Such things become the hatch and brood of time."

Oh, but the show goes on
On through the seven ages
That of the world must mirror man's, in fact
Here comes the seventh act
See how the mirror′s cracked
Here comes sans everything for human-kind

To capture the conscience
Of nations and kings
All history's drama
The play′s the thing

How could he know so much?