I don't know what it means and I don't care because it's Shakespeare and it's like having jewels in my mouth when I say the words..

There's so much absurdity. Poverty is so absurd..

Love her as in childhood Through feeble, old and grey. For you’ll never miss a mother’s love Till she’s buried beneath the clay..

You never know when you might come home and find Mam sitting by the fire chatting with a woman and a child, strangers. Always a woman and child. Mam ….