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