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(Lyrics Mark Knopfler; air trad. )

We've paid in hell since Moscow burned
As Cossacks tear us piece by piece
Our dead are strewn a hundred leagues
Though death would be a sweet release
And our Grande Armee is dressed in rags
A frozen, starving beggar band
Like rats we steal each other's scraps
And fall to fighting hand to hand

cho:: Save my soul from evil, Lord
And heal this soldier's heart
I'll trust in thee to keep me, Lord
I'm done with Bonaparte

What dreams he made for us to dream
The Spanish skies, Egyptian sands
The world was ours, we marched upon
Our little corporal's command
And I lost an eye at Austerlitz
The sabre slash yet gives me pain
My one true love awaits me still
The flower of the Aquitaine (CH)

I pray for her who prays for me
A safe return to ma belle France
We prayed this war would end all wars
In war we know there's no romance
And I pray our child will never see
A little corporal again
Point towards a foreign shore
And captivate the hearts of men (CH)

@war @Napoleon
filename[ DONEBONY

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