Camelot once was paradise
High above the problems
Other kingdoms experience
But now
After reaching the height of heavens
We've descended into hell
The people are dying
From hunger
From despair
The entire kingdom shudders
Unprepared, without hope
For the king has retreated
Hiding from the sun
A ghost in his manor
With the blessing
Our quest is begun
We are being sent
To help reclaim our land
For our king is ill from sorrow
And the land and he are one
Without our lord
We shall suffer torment
Without our king
The future will be one of regret
Shall we endure life without living
Shall we suffer
Sin without chance of being forgiven?
We can repent
We can forget
But without our king
Our hearts will fail
Our spirits no longer sing
Our lord Arthur called for a quest
Truly a test
Of our endurance
We must find the chalice
A holy relic that is hidden
Beyond the fields we know
Beyond any door
It is more than finding
More than receiving
More than any dream
We cannot find it
Without purifying our spirit
We cannot find it by just believing
We must become holy
This search comes from inside
And ends with ascent
Will we ever find it
Save our king
As he turns pale
From his soul bleeding
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
The sweet vision of the Holy Grail
Drove me from all vainglories, rivalries,
And earthly heats that spring and sparkle out
Among us in the jousts, while women watch
Who wins, who falls; and waste the spiritual strength
Within us, better offered up to Heaven.
