| Sir Lionel!
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| Do you recall the other night
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| That I distinctly said you might
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| Serve as my escort at the next town fair?
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| Well, I’m afraid there’s someone who
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| I must invite in place of you
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| Someone who plainly is beyond compare
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| That Frenchman’s power is more tremendous
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| Than I have e’er seen anywhere
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| And when a man is that stupendous
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| He, by right, should take me to the fair
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| Your majesty, let me tilt with him and smite him!
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| Don’t refuse me so abruptly, I implore!
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| Oh, give me the opportunity to fight him
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| And Gaul will be divided once more!
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| You will bash and thrash him?
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| I’ll smash and mash him
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| You’ll give him trouble?
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| He will be rubble
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| A mighty whack?
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| His skull will crack
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| Well…
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| Then you may take me to the fair
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| If you do all the things you promise
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| In fact, my heart would break should you not take me to the fair
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| Sir Sagramore!
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| I have some rather painful news
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| Relative to the subject who’s
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| To be beside me at the next court ball
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| You were the chosen one, I know
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| But as tradition it should go
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| To the unquestioned champion in the hall
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| And I’m convinced that splendid Frenchman
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| Can easily conquer one and all
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| And besting all our local henchmen
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| He should sit beside me at the ball
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| I beg of you, ma’am, withhold your invitation
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| I swear to you this challenge will be met
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| And when I have finished up the operation
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| I’ll serve him to your highness en brochette!
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| You’ll pierce right through him?
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| I’ll barbecue him!
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| A wicked thrust?
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| 'Twill be dust to dust!
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| From fore to aft?
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| He’ll feel a draft!
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| Well then…
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| You may sit by me at the ball
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| If you demolish him in battle
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| In fact, I know I’d cry were you not by me at the ball
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| Sir Dinadan!
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| Didn’t I promise that you may
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| Guide me to London on the day
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| That I go up to judge the cattle show?
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| As it is quite a nasty ride
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| There must be someone at my side
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| Who’ll be defending me from beast and foe
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| So when I choose whom I prefer go
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| I take the strongest knight I know
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| And young du Lac seems strongest, ergo
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| He should take me to the cattle show
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| Your Majesty can’t believe this blustering prattle
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| Let him prove it with a sword or lance instead!
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| I promise you, when I’ve done this Gaul in battle
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| His shoulders will be lonesome for his head!
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| You’ll disconnect him?
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| I’ll vivisect him
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| You’ll open-wide him?
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| I’ll subdivide him
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| Oh, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear
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| Then you may guide me to the show
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| If you can carry out your program
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| In fact, I’d grieve inside should you not guide me to the show
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| Milady, we shall put an end to
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| That Galic bag of noise and nerve
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| When we do all that we intend to
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| He’ll be a plate of French hors d’ouvres!
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| I do applaud your noble goals
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| Now let us see if you achieve them
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| And if you do, then you will be the three
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| Who will go to the ball, to the show
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| And take me to the fair |