Sweet Sir Galahad came in through the window in the night
when the moon was in the ark.
He took her hand in his and shook the long hair from his neck
and he told her she'd been working much too hard.
It was true that ever since the day her crazy man had passed away
to the land of poets of rhyme.
She laughed and talked a lot with new people on the block.
Always at evening time she cried.
And here's to the dawn of their days.
She moved her head a little down on the
bed until it rested softly on his knee.
He rubbed her smile and there she sat a while.
Told him all the sadness of those years as number three.
Well you know I think my fate's belated cause of all
the hours I've waited for the day when I no longer cry.
I get myself to work by April.
Oh was I born too late?
Do you think I'll fail at every single thing I try?
And here's to the dawn of their days.
Well he just put his arm around her and that's the way I found her.
Well it's belated to the day.
Lines of a smile erase the tear tracks upon her face.
The smile that could linger even stay.