O Guinevere, fairest of all flesh,
Everyone here counted us most blessed.
I pulled the sword from the stone for you,
I built a home with you. You were my bride.
I built a kingdom and lost it for you.
You were the apple of my eye.
Was there a day when you woke up beside me
And your heart sank and you couldn't stop thinking:
"Who's this imposter? That man's not my husband.
He was much gentler and he was more handsome,
and he used to sweep me away on his horse..."
You were the apple of my eye.
Wife of my youth, what have we come to?
Some fight for truth; some fight and get run through.
So I'll take the castle and you take the children,
Go on with Lancelot. We'll call it even.
But you were the apple of my eye.