I was not the one
To find it
I was not the one
To hold it
I sought the Grail
To heal my lord
Arthur, King of all Britons
The most cherished lord
Enlightened
To lead
We were sent
To quest
To find the chalice
Arthur, Briton's lion
He was the soul
Of our living land
From the ocean north
To the southern shore
Beyond Avalon's horizon
A beautiful world
Reigned over by a man
Sent by the eternal God
But the land was grieved
And the king was ill
From the breath
Of the dragon
Upon him
In full sorrow
From his loss
Of his Queen
From his wounds
Upon his heart
From Mordred
His ill conceived son
To find it was to heal him
To hold it was to heal me
But my soul was to darkened
From life's wounds grieving me
But Avalon's prince
Arthur
Would rise again
And then the world
Would be made good
