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Lyrics of 'Death Of King Arthur' by Boris Grebenshikov

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Of Lancelot du Lake
Tell i no more
But this by leave
These ermytes seven.
But still Kynge Arthur
Lieth there, and Quene Guenever,
As I you newyn.
And Monkes
That are right of lore
Who synge with moulded stewyn
Ihesu, who hath woundes sore,
Grant us the blyss of Heaven.

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Otras canciones de Boris Grebenshikov

• 3 Gangsters
• China
• Death Of King Arthur
• Down For Whatever
• Fields Of My Love
• Mother
• Radio Silence
• Real Slow Today
• That Voice Again
• The Postcard
• The Time
• The Volga Boatsman Song
• The Wind
• Winter
• Wolves And Ravens
• Young Lions

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