| For centuries, the true belief did force men to go out and seek
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| And find the relic — I will try
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| The legend tells: a simple cup the Lord did use to share his blood
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| At the Last Supper fore he died
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| There are signs in the sky, the whispering winds won’t lie
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| I’m gonna set out for the quest, leave back my home and maid
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| Parcival and Galahad — the memory ain’t dead
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| I’m on my way with prayer as well as blade
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| To search for the Grail, an aim we won’t fail
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| The Round Table’s promise for all mankind’s hail
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| How far I’ve to go, how long — I don’t know
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| To search for the Grail
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| (Ad maiorem Dei gloriam)
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| The dark coasts of Britannia — the deserts of far Africa
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| So many dangers I’ve to face
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| In spite of hunger, boiling tar, and unbeliever’s scimitar
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| I will survive by God’s own face
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| Every night I watch the stars, for a sign from up above
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| Doubts and fears can’t drive away the strong faith in my heart
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| In the circle of the knights I’ve been called to bring to light
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| The wonder and the glory — from the start
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| To search for the Grail, an aim we won’t fail
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| The Round Table’s promise for all mankind’s hail
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| How far I’ve to go, how long — I don’t know
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| To search for the Grail
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| To search for the Grail, an aim we won’t fail… |