Two households, both alike in dignityIn fair Verona, where we lay our sceneFrom ancient grudge break to new mutinyWhere civil blood makes civil hands uncleanFrom forth the fatal loins of these two foesA pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;Whose misadventured piteous overthrowsDo with their death bury their parents' strifeThe fearful passage of their death-mark'd loveAnd the continuance of their parents' rageWhich, but their children's end, nought could removeIs now the two hours' traffic of our stage;The which if you with patient ears attendWhat here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mendI am a child of aMoney hungry, prideful countryGrass is green and it's always sunnyHands so bloody, tastes like honeyI'm finding it hard to leaveI am a child of a money hungry, prideful countryGrass is green and it's always sunnyHands so bloody, tastes like honeyI'm finding it hard to leave
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