Lyrics
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I wandered lonely as a cloud
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That floats on high o’er vales and hills
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When all at once I saw a cloud. Yeah yeah
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Wordsworth, though I rate your nature hot take
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Go riff on a cliff or go jump in a lake
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You may be inspired by your environ
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But I wrote about me the scandalous Byron
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My name is Keats
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I got all the right beats
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Like Wordsworth I love the nightingale tweets
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I’m not as posh as them and that’s a big concern
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But I wrote an ode to a Grecian urn
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Beauty is truth, and truth is beauty
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You’re just a Cockney oik
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No need to be snooty
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Nature is a crazy mama
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The key to life and all its drama
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Romantics love to get the feels
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We imagine big, we don’t keep it reals. Yeah yeah
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You’re an awful writer
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Your epic tales are lame!
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They’re all about your ego
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You’re just jealous of my fame
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You don’t need to struggle - there’s no fire in your belly
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I leave that stuff to Percy Bysshe Shelly
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Let’s change the world!
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Our poetry sings!
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Of dangerous power of queens and kings!
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Men must assert their rights to grow!
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But let’s not forget the ladies
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Helloooooo!
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Romantics love to get the feels
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We imagine big we don’t keep it reals
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I died ignored they were gigantic
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Now how about we hear from a new Romantic?!
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My story will blow you away!
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I’m Mary Shelley and here’s what I say!
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On a holiday in Lake Geneva
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We got a bad storytelling fever
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Talked late at night of tales that affect us
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Frightening fables of ghosts and spectres
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One terrifying story of mine, inspired me to write Frankenstein
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That scary monster is your claim to fame
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Yeah, and people still think Frankenstein was the monster’s name
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Romantics love to get the feels
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We imagine big we don’t keep it reals
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I was like a rock star, a hero
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We had fame too but Keats got zero
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At 25, I died of TB
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I was 29 when I drowned at sea!!!
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I lived to 36, but that was it for me
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And I was dead by 53
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Unlike them I was late and great-y
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Lived to the ripe old age of 80
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Life is short, and cruel and frantic
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But nature lives on…
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That’s so romantic
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