horrible histories - the romantic poets lyrics
[william wordsworth]
yeah
ooh
i wandered lonely as a cloud
that floats on high o’er vales and hills
when all at once i saw a crowd
yeah
[lord byron]
wordsworth, though i rate your nature hot take
go riff on a cliff or go jump in a lake
you may be inspired by your environ
but i write about me, the scandalous byron
[john keats]
my name is keats, i got all the right beats
like wordsworth i like the nightingale tweets
i’m not as posh as them and that’s a big concern
but i wrote an “ode to a grecian urn”
beauty is truth, and truth is beauty
[byron]
you’re just a c+ckney oik
[keats]
no need to be snooty
[all]
nature is a crazy mama
[keats]
the key to life and all its drama
[wordsworth]
romantics love to get the feels
[byron]
we imagine big, we don’t keep it real
you’re an awful writer
[keats]
your epic tales are lame
they’re all about your ego
[byron]
you’re just jealous of my fame
[keats]
you don’t have to struggle, there’s no fire in your belly
[byron]
i leave that stuff to percy bysshe sh+lley
[percy bysshe sh+lley]
let’s change the world, our poetry sings
of dangerous power of queens and kings
men must assert their rights to grow
[byron]
but don’t forget the ladies
[mary sh+lley]
h+llo
[all]
romantics love to get the feels
[byron]
we imagine big, we don’t keep it real
[keats]
i died ignored, they were gigantic
[pb sh+lley]
now how about we hear from a new romantic
[m sh+lley]
my story will blow you away
i’m mary sh+lley and here’s what i say
on a holiday in lake geneva
we got a bad storytelling fever
[byron]
talking at night of tales that affect us
frightening fables of ghosts and spectres
[m sh+lley]
one terrifying story of mine
inspired me to write “frankenstein”
[byron]
that scary monster is your claim to fame
[m sh+lley]
yeah, and people still think frankenstein was the monster’s name
[all]
romantics love to get the feels
[byron]
we imagine big, we don’t keep it real
i was like a rock star hero
[wordsworth, pb sh+lley, m sh+lley]
we had fame too, but keats got zero
[keats]
25, i died of tb
[pb sh+lley]
i was 29 when i drowned at sea
[byron]
i lived to 36 but that was it for me
[m sh+lley]
and i was dead by 53
[wordsworth]
unlike them i was late and great+y
lived to the ripe old age of 80
life is short and cruel and frantic
nature lives on
[all]
that’s so romantic
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