Sir Galahad

Taken from the castle feast



To an abbey in the East



Three knights stood in pride as one



Lancelot beheld his son



Arthur's court he made him come



Galahad his bastard son



Battles soon for him to fight



Blessed his youthful son of knight



Arthur and the knights, marvelous stone



Floating upon the river alone



Pointing from the rock, the sword shining bright



Glittering jewels, shimmering light



Pull me, pull me, pull me, pull me



Gawain first he tried to draw from the stone



To wear by his side



Each knight took it's turn, brave to the last



Faced with the sword, remaining fast



[Incomprehensible]



Arthur called a knight young Galahad



Saw in his sheath no sword he had



Took him where the sword held by the stone



Offered him there to make it his own



Pull me, pull me, pull me



He fell on his knees, to pull out the hilt



And drew it with ease



The dolorous stroke it once struck with pride



The sword that once hung by Sir Gawain's side



[Incomprehensible]