Son of a Dragon (The Coming of Arthur)

From Dover's cliffs to Scotland's hills,
A cold wind blows and drives the mills
Of war and slaughter, endless woe;
This fate of us, it hurts me so!
Great Albion in darkness lies
And everywhere I hear the cries,
Of dying people, up and down.
I'm standing here and watch and frown!

But years ago a boy was born,
In Tintagel, to knighthood sworn.
He rides his steed across the lands,
His heart like steel and strong his hands.
He's questing for the sword of kings,
The blade of fay, that justice brings,
To aid him in his righteous cause;
He has no fear and no remorse!

A golden age of light will come,
A shimmer in this world of glum.
And rising to his throne so high,
He does not rest, his time is nigh!
Most noble is his sole intend,
He's standing tall, with pride unbent,
To bring us times of wealth and peace.
He heeds the call for our release!

This man will rule one faithful day,
That's blessed by wizards and by fay.
He's growing up with open eyes,
For glory and for death's demise!
He is the prince of Albion,
Through him the dark age will be gone,
For he will be the brightest flame,
And Arthur is his strength and name!

The blade of myth almost in sight,
No enemy can stop his stride,
For soon his fate will be revealed;
The law his sword and grace his shield!
The heir of Uther, first-born son,
The true and noble, only one,
The future king of knights so grand,
The savior of our sacred land!

Sir Arthur, ride! Claim Caliburn!
Your honor will be good's return
And free this isle from tragic tears;
The end of all the mournful years!
You will be legend evermore,
The hero of the greatest lore.
The dragon's son, on justice's wing!
Behold the coming of the king!