The Book of the Death of Arthur
Spicer on Merlin
The faint call of drums, the little signals
Folks half-true and half-false in a different way than we are
half-true and half-false
A meal for us there lasts a century.
Out to greet me. I, Arthur
Rex quondam et futurus with a banjo on my knee.
I, Arthur, shouting to my bastard son "It is me you are trying
Listening to them, theyh who have problems too
The faint call of them. The faint call of
(They would stay in Camelot for a hundred years) The faint call of
Next Contents One Two Three Five Six Seven