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The ancient and glorious tale of King Arthur, Queen Guinevere, and what befell them
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The story begins on a hilltop. Camelot! Camelot! That's how conditions are
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The rain may never fall till after sundown. By eight the morning fog must disappear
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In short, there's simply not a more congenial spot for happily ever aftering
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than here in Camelot. That darling month when everyone throws self-control away
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It's time to do a wretched thing or two and try to make each precious day one yellow haze through
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It's May, it's May, the month of Yes You May. The time for every frivolous whim, proper oi
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To love and desire he ought to be unsparkable. The ways of the flesh should offer no allure
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But where in the world is there in the world a man so untouched and pure? ♪♪��
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C'est moi. Look you through the dust. Look! Sir Sagramore is ready for the thrust
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And now they're circling round. Split! Sir Sagramore will drive them to the ground
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Here comes the blow. Here comes the blow. What else do the simple folk do
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They must have a system or two. They obviously outshine us at turning tears to mirth
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Have tricks, oh royal highness, is my nest from birth. What then, I wonder, do they
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To chase all the goblins away? They have some tribal sorcery you haven't mentioned yet
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Oh, what do simple folk do? Yes! Oh
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Okay! Fie! Making sure that the meek are treated well. Fie
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Eight years of philanthropic labor. Dairy down, dell. Gatling's hell, oh fie on goodness
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Fie, fie, fie, fie. It's been depressing all the way. Dairy down, dairy down
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And getting glummer every day. Dairy down, dairy down, all but to burn a little town
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A slayer doesn't mend anything till I've got a gift. Oh, fie on virtue. Fie
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Fie on mercy. Fie! Fie on justice. Fie on goodness. Fie! Fie! Fie! Fie
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By the score, held the day. Touched the eye, touched the way
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Lost the night. If ever I would leave you, How could it be in springtime
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Knowing how in spring I'd be witched by you so. Oh, no, not in springtime
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Summer, winter, or fall. No, never could I leave you
