Galahad by Levellers
Galahad fell in love
Seven days before the hunt
She was not of his class
So the love was never to last
They went down to look for the scraps
Wherever they could
She told him not to run with the pack but he knew that he should.
Or there'd be no bones
The weak sun of the Autumn days
Carried them through a lovers haze
Then came the bugle call
For Galahad his brothers and all
And the fileds ran with the blood
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