The flowering cherries
Flowing and pink,
Blossoms, like snow
Fall to the ground,
Emma has eyes, like the heavens of blue,
She has a delicate air of beauty about her too.
If Emma were a season, she would be spring,
She's free and she's happy, like a bird on the wing. Where Emma is, you hear the laughter of great friends,
Remembering the old schoolroom
with tears and heavy sighs,
Where fear lurked behind
the eyes of innocent child,
Camelot, rich imagination of mystery and power,
King Arthur, Merlin, the magic sword of Excalibur.
Fair maiden Guinevere, Arthur's queen,
A beloved wife, but faithful not,
I think alone in dreams,
Quite hoplessly it seems,
That the world could live as one,
Beneath the glowing sun.