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The Angel of the Holy Grail saw Galahad come riding, |
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So he took the Holy Grail off the shelf. |
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And inside the Holy Chapel made for Holy Grail hiding, |
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The Angel could be seen to smile to himself. |
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If you're the Great Sir Galahad from now on, |
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said the Angel, |
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May all angels call me blessed of my race. |
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If you're not the Great Sir Galahad I warn you, |
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keep on riding, |
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And if you are I pray you'll let me see your face. |
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Galahad removed his helmet, said, |
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Good Angel, look upon me, |
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Fear not for I bring tidings of great joy. |
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For long years the Grail you've guarded |
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now you get to let me drink it, |
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How happy must be angels thus employed. |
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All the favours that you shower upon me, |
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a simple angel, |
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Said the Angel, |
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Your benevolence abounds. |
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Take your boots off, Great Sir Galahad; |
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for by your astounding beauty |
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Whatever ground you stand on turns to holy ground. |
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Galahad took off his boots |
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and he watched the ground quite closely |
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And the Angel smiled to himself again. |
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He said, I can't believe I'm asking, |
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but Sir Galahad please tell me |
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What is it that makes you want to go to Heaven? |
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In Heaven there's no lamb chops, |
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Queen Guineveres for hand jobs, |
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Marijuana, Kenny Rogers or ecstasy. |
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No pillaging, no rape, |
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perhaps you've come by some mistake to me, |
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This seems more error than knight errantry. |
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Now what about the stable boys, |
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I know you think they're handsome, |
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And some of them they think you're awful handsome too. |
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And sitting up in Heaven you'll still think about them often, |
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When you're an angel thinking's all that you can do. |
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At this Sir Galahad got angry, |
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Angel, he said, don't you tempt me, |
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I wish to go to Heaven and not to Hell. |
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So when stable boys look lonesome, |
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when the women call me handsome, |
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I'll hold my virtue very firmly by myself. |
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I guarantee you'll hold it often, |
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said the Angel, oh one more thing |
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Before you drink the cup please take your armour off. |
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I gotta carry you to heaven |
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and despite what you'd imagine |
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I have trouble bearing heavy things aloft. |
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Galahad stood naked and a pile of his armor, |
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His boots and helmet scattered all around. |
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His perfect lips they sipped the Grail, |
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his perfect heart commenced to fail, |
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His perfect body fell upon the ground. |
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The Angel smoked a cigarette, |
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when he was sure Galahad was dead |
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He picked all of his clothes up off the floor. |
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Then I put on his boots and armor, |
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I laid his body on the altar, |
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Put his helmet on then I headed for the door. |
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