Текст песни Death Of King Arthur

Boris Grebenshikov/Sir Thomas Malory)

Of Lancelot du Lake

Tell i no more

But this by leave

These ermytes seven.

But still Kynge Arthur

Lieth there, and Quene Guenever,
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As I you newyn.

And Monkes

That are right of lore

Who synge with moulded stewyn

Ihesu, who hath woundes sore,

Grant us the blyss of Heaven.

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