Your Highness, I can provide you stealthy men Who will take you far away from here But a treaty will be broken And a state of war will be declared between England and France Many men will die Or you can stay And together, we may discover if power might be harnessed As a force of good A force of good? Yes I don't know if I'm worthy You'll get used to that feeling I hear it never rains 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