Weave the tread of our fall
Blind of all flesh from your beloved Camelot.
It's the curse of the Lady of Shalott.

"God in his mercy lend her grace"

Outcast from the world I have [bad word] Looking into a mirror to see Camelot
It's the burden of the Lady of Shalott.

But when the curse falls down upon us
We will burn together
Under rain, the wickiest of weather
And sail, pale white, onto Camelot
Dead by the side of the Lady of Shalott.

I'll crawl to the Sun,
The mirror is cracking now
Silent & broken I've [bad word] From the weaving of my pain.
Curse my life & the mark of Cain
For no more shall the lady of Shalott
Sit quietly longing for dear old Camelot.

Oh and the boat came empty of love
Carrying the finest of all ladies
dying angel from above
Who tried to reach Camelot
Here lays the lady of Shalott...

My hands will not heal you
My deepest sorrow is in vain
As you turn pale and blue,
Parting to the land of the dead.
But sorrow is all I got,
So travel far lady of Shalott.