On the way home from a huge fi-ight
Macbeth and Banquo did fi-ind
Three witches acting spooky-like
"Eye-eye of newt" and su-uch shite
But then they claim to Macbeth tha-at
He'll soon be Thane of Cawdor a-and
King herea-after, his pal
Wi-ill spawn a huge ki-ing li-ine

Witches vani-ish in puffs of smo-oke
In comes Thane Ross with some news to besto-ow:
Thane of Cawdo-or shall lose his li-ife
So now Macbe-eth has that title, tha-at's ri-ight
Th-Th-Th-Th-Th-Th-Th-Th-That Ma-acbe-e-eth, sure is a lucky ma-an
But in his brain, a pla-an
K-K-K-K-K-K-K-K-King Ma-acbe-e-eth, a nice ring to it no-ow
He lusts after the cro-own

But soon Macbeth is swamped with dou-oubt
Is this the right thing to do no-ow?
Well, his wife sure thinks so and how
She-e goa-oads him to kill tha-at ni-ight
Plant the daggers on two drunk gua-uards
Drunk and framed by Macbeth, both pa-arts
Now Duncan's dead as are the gua-uards
Killed by Ma-acbeth in a "ra-age", ri-ight

Now Macbeth's ki-ing, what of Banquo-o?
He cannot be, but his heirs will be, so-o
Must have him slai-ain and his kids, fi-ine
His assassi-ins only end Banquo-o's li-ife
K-K-K-K-K-K-K-K-King Ma-acbe-e-eth gets nervous after tha-at
Sees Banquo's ghost twice, da-amn
K-K-K-K-K-K-K-K-King Ma-acbe-e-eth consumed by further dou-oubts
Decides he's going ou-out

Those witches three-ee
Will re-eveal nea-ear everythi-i-ing

They tell Macbe-eth three things, they warn
"Beware Macduff!" "No man of woman born
Will harm you!" "No-o harm will you-ou fi-ind
Until the-e Great Birnam Wood comes to-o li-ife!"

Lady Macbe-eth's gone a bit nu-uts
Washing her hands of non-existent bloo-ood
But still Macbe-eth think that he's fi-ine
Sending armie-ies to slaughter Macdu-uff's li-ine (foolish Macbe-e-e-e-e-eth)
K-K-K-K-K-K-K-K-King Ma-acbe-e-eth, learns that his wife has sna-apped
She's offed herself, in fa-act
K-K-K-K-K-K-K-K-King Ma-acbe-e-eth has to have a sit-do-own
A soliloquy no-ow? Macduff's army comes no-ow

Hear me, Macbe-eth? Army's here no-ow
Carrying limbs from the Birnam Wood bou-oughs
Great camoufla-age, proves Macduff's bri-ight
And he was bo-orn by Ceserea-an, shi-ite (Ki-ing Macbe-e-e-e-e-eth)
K-K-K-K-K-K-K-K-King Ma-acbe-e-eth, Siward's son you did sta-ab
Your neck won't be inta-act (that's ri-ight, man)
K-K-K-K-K-K-K-K-King Ma-alco-o-olm (King Ma-alco-o-olm), the play is over no-ow
Stand up and take a bo-ow