minstrel: Looking for Lyrics

Wes Will wwill at siu.edu
Thu Apr 24 06:36:24 PDT 1997

Sent the lyrics privately about 2 minutes after the request was posted.

If anyone knows the author, please email it to me, so I may attribute it
properly.  The file resides in my ftp server in the SCATEXT/SONGS
directory.  There are several there.  If you wish any/all of your own works
posted, there is a public UPLOADS directory enabled for your use.  I will
post it as-is in the appropriate directory.  Ditto stories, poems, or other
text items.  ASCII text files, please.  If formatted (word processor) text
is sent, I will reformat it (unformat it?) and post the bare text form in
the SONGS or STORIES or POEMS directory, as appropriate.

              THE DAY THE TABLE DIED
               (Tune: "American Pie")

T'was so long ago, but I still remember 
How the legends used to make me smile...
And I knew given half a chance,
I'd kill so many with my lance,
And maybe I'd be famous for a while
So death and bloodshed I'd deliver,
With every arrow from my quiver.
All this bloody hassle, 
Just to defend one castle....
I remember how he shed a tear, 
When he learned of Lance and Guenivere
And something touched me way down here,
The day, the table, died.

CHORUS: Hail, Hail, to the fellas in mail!
        Slaying dragons, saving damsels, chasing after the Grail.
        We fought off evil, til our faces were pale
        Wondering if there was a chance we might fail,
        Could there be a chance we might fail?

Hast thou read the Book of Merlin,
With its stories that Sir Rod of Sterling
Could have penned for Twilight Zone?
Dost thou believe in legend'ry,
And all the tales of chivalry
Like the one about the longsword and the stone?
Well, Lancelot came from Par-ee
To serve in Arthur's cavalry,
He sweated off his tail, to wear the royal mail.
When Lance had won his confidence 
He met Queen Guenevere by chance
And melted down his iron pants
The day the table died.


For several years, Lance and the Queen
Had kept their meetings clandestine
Finding ways to be alone.
T'was on a fateful summers day, 
When Mordred found them in the hay,
And the Frenchman knew his cover had been blown
Arthur cried Swear by Excalibur
That you truly did not lie with her!
The notion was absurd,
Lance said not a word.
And so the Knight, no longer chaste,
Unto his native soil he raced,
Left Guenevere alone to face,
The day the table died.


Convicted of a grave offense
By Mordreds damning evidence,
Guenevere was set to burn.
Arthur loathed his bastard son
For all his work had been undone
But he vowed the tables would be turned.
Having Lance arrive to save the day
He carried Guenevere away
The king was so relieved, 
His true love was reprieved!
Then Guenivere became a nun,
And Lancelot had no more fun
And Mordred soon was on the run
The day the table died.


I stand guard at this castle door,
Though Arthur reigns not any more
Camelot's a memory.
It does my heart good to recall
The mighty Kingdoms rise and fall,
And the space it occupies in history.
The spirit of those days, it seems,
Continues only in our dreams
For there we can enjoy it;
Let no-one dare destroy it!
One prophecy of days of yore,
Says Arthur shall arise once more
To make all as it was before
The day the table died.

Chorus x2

=========Merchant's List=========

To unsubscribe from this list, send email to majordomo at pbm.com containing
the words "unsubscribe minstrel". To contact a human about problems, send
mail to owner-minstrel at pbm.com

More information about the minstrel mailing list