With the might of nine men
And with his head full of red hair
His brusque fashion and his acumen
He carved his place at the King's fair
There was only one other
To whom he looked with honor
Always by his side, facing danger
Their rhythm together was a marvel
The fate's fickle motions
Caused an abrupt end to their notions
Power of friendship wasn't able
To prevent the tragedy's closure
Braying like an injured animal
He searched his injury's satisfaction
Facing his brothers' annihilator
He continued relentlessly even in failure
Sir Lancelot was the greatest
Sir Gawain was the soundest
Sir Galahad was the purest
Sir Cumference was the roundest
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