"Camelot"
It's true! It's True! The crown has made it clear: The climate must be perfect all the year. A law was made a distant moon ago here, July and August cannot be too hot/ And there's a legal limit to the snow here in Camelot. The winter is forbidden till December, And exits March the second on the dot. By order summer lingers through September in Camleot. Camelot! Camelot! I know it sounds a bit bizarre; But in Camelot, Camleot That's how conditions are. The rain may never fall till after sundown, By eight the morning fog must disappear. In short, there's simply not A more congenial spot For happ'ly-ever-aftering than here In Camelot. Camelot! Camelot! I know it gives a person pause But in Camelot, Camelot Those are the legal laws. The snow may never slush upon the hillside, By nine p.m. the moonlight must appear. In short, there's simply not A more congenial spot For happ'ly-ever-aftering than here In Camelot.
ARTHUR Each evening from December to December Before you drift to sleep upon your cot, Think back on all the tales that you remember Of Camelot. Ask ev'ry person if he's heard the story; And tell it strong and clear if he has not: That once there was a fleeting wisp of glory Called Camelot. Camelot! Camelot! Now say it out with love and Joy! TOM Camelot! Camelot! ARTHUR Yes, Camelot, my boy.... Where once it never rained till after sundown; By eight a.m. the morning fog had flown... Don't let it be forgot That once there was a spot For one brief shining moment that was know As Camelot...
