It's true!

It's true

The Crown has made it clear

The climate must be perfect all the year

A law was made a distant moon ago here

July and August cannot be too hot

And there's a legal limit to the snow here

In Camelot

The winter is forbidden till December

And exits March the second on the dot

By order, summer lingers through September

In Camelot

Camelot!

Camelot!

I know it sounds a bit bizarre

But in Camelot

Camelot

That's how conditions are

The rain may never fall till after sundown

By eight the morning fog must disappear

In short, there's simply not

A more congenial spot

For happily-ever-after-ing than here in Camelot

I'm looking for a life of adventure and romance

And love and meaning

And you're offering me a temperate climate

Which by the way, in England, is ridiculous

It's a metaphor, Your Highness

It's poetry

That means it's not literally about rain and snow

I know what a metaphor is

Camelot! Say it

No

Try it!

Camelot

Yes!

I know it gives a person pause

But in Camelot (Again?)

Yep

Camelot!

Those are the legal laws

The snow may never slush upon the hillside

By nine p.m., the moonlight must appear

In short, there's simply not

A more congenial spot

For happily-ever-after-ing than here in Camelot!