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. Oh and the boat came empty of love Carrying the finest of all ladies A dying angel from above Who tried to reach Camelot Here lays the Lady of Shalott... My hands will not heal you My deepest sorrow is in vain As you turn pale and blue, Parting to the land of the dead. But sorrow is all I got, So travel far lady of Shalott.