Charlie Barnes
macbethmacbethmacbeth
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Raise your emptied glass to victories your wounds forget
Old kings soon shall pass robes worn down to barren threads
You look too young for a suit so aged.
Any fool will soon be parted from his gold or from his flesh
You look too young for a suit so aged.
Can't cut wood from trees so thin at the waist.
By their thousands, all your heroes hell will call.
You look too young for a suit so aged.
Can't cut wood from trees so thin at the waist.