Launcelot. Look, my liege!

[fan­fare]

Launcelot. Camelot!

Robin. Camelot!

Gala­had. Camelot!

Pat­sy. [whis­pered] It’s on­ly a mod­el.

Gala­had. Shh!

Arthur. Knights, I bid you wel­come to your new home. Let us ride . . . to camelot!

[Song]

We’re knights of the round ta­ble, we dance whene’re we’re able.
We do rou­tines, and bor­der scenes, with foot­work imp‐​e‐​ca­ble;
We dine well here in Camelot, we eat ham and jam and spa­malot.

We’re knights of the round ta­ble, our shows are for‐​mid‐​able
Though many times, we’re giv­en rhymes, that are quite un‐​sing‐​able
We’re not so bad in Camelot, we sing from the Dia‐​phragm alot!

Though we’re tough and able,
Quite in‐​de‐​fa‐​ti‐​gable,
Be­tween our quests, we seek in­cest and im­per­son­ate Clark Gable,
It’s a busy life in Camelot:

I have to push the pram‐​a‐​lot!

Arthur. On sec­ond thought, let’s not go to Camelot. It is a sil­ly place.