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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 become

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 become

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.