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 Camelot
Camelot!
Camelot!
I know it sounds a bit bizarre
But in Camelot
Camelot
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 happily-ever-after-ing than here in Camelot
I'm looking for a life of adventure and romance
And love and meaning
And you're offering me a temperate climate
Which by the way, in England, is ridiculous
It's a metaphor, Your Highness
It's poetry
That means it's not literally about rain and snow
I know what a metaphor is
Camelot! Say it
No
Try it!
Camelot
Yes!
I know it gives a person pause
But in Camelot (Again?)
Yep
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 happily-ever-after-ing than here in Camelot!