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We two hard men of arms as brothers roam the Commons Encounter pushy spin doctors, one, two, and three Whispering dark prophesies, with their cackling and their moaning I am seduced by wicked promises of the Walpole house to me Here rule I from high on Dunsinane Hill But first, I have to banish, blame the deed on servile others They must be cast out into exile and gone without delay God save me, king of cabinet, now I look over my shoulder To see my brother warrior, damned spot to wash away Such treachery unbecoming tears my heart strings still strumming But my options grow diminished, no choice but to betray See the wooded lower chamber, a cloak of green disguise I nurse bleak imaginings amidst that Quercus wall Mere matter of delusion, no Speaker's firm intrusion Let guilty solace soon surpass the tears that fall I shall reign resolved, proud, never vanquished until Great Birnam Wood comes to high Dunsinane Hill To high Dunsinane Hill From Letras Mania