[THE DIONYSIANS]
They do an awful lot of dancing, the dead
They do an awful lot of dancing, the dead
It's very comforting, perpetual serenity and such
It's very comforting, and yet you can put up with just so much
So there's an awful lot of dancing instead
Down here, among the dead

They give an awful lot of banquets, the dead
You turn around, another table is spread
And if you don't become habituated quickly, it's a bore
You're always eating something which you ate the Bacchanal before
And what's the remedy for bеing overfed?
One guеss, among the dead

They do an awful lot of laughing, the dead
There's always just that little smidgen of dread
Most any person in a panic dotes on ever-lasting noise
So they tell ever-lasting anecdotes which everyone enjoys
Since no one listens to what anyone has said
Down here, among the dead

They do an awful lot of drinking, the dead
They have a truly endless evening ahead
The time is always right and fitting
When you pour another round
Because it's nighttime unremitting
When you're sitting underground
What with the dancing and the eating
And the laughing and the drinking
There's no problem in retreating
From the awkwardness of thinking
And that ever present smidgen of dread
Down here, among the dead
Like, up there among the dead
[DIONYSOS, spoken]
Suddenly, we heard a commotion. The entire crowd of revelers came bursting through the doors of the palace in a terrible state. It seems that Shaw, never a great admirer of Shakespeare in the first place, and besotted by both my admiration and my wine, had started wittily but relentlessly attacking Shakespeare's plays. Of course, everyone immediately took sides, and it was up to me as god of drama to prevent bloodshed. I proposed a duel between the two. Not with weapons; but with words. And to this end, we invote the Muses