Mark Knopfler - Done With Bonaparte Lyrics
Weve paid in hell since moscow burnedAs cossacks tear us piece by pieceOur dead are strewn a hundred leaguesThough death would be a sweet releaseAnd our grande arme is dressed in ragsA frozen starving beggar bandLike rats we steal each others scrapsFall to fighting hand to handSave my soul from evil, lordAnd heal this soldiers heartIll trust in thee to keep me, lordIm done with bonaparteWhat dreams he made for us to dreamSpanish skies, egyptian sandsThe world was ours, we marched uponOur little corporals commandAnd I lost an eye at austerlitzThe sabre slash yet gives me painMy one true love awaits me stillThe flower of the aquitaineSave my soul from evil, lordAnd heal this soldiers heartIll trust in thee to keep me, lordIm done with bonaparteI pray for her who prays for meA safe return to my belle franceWe prayed these wars would end all warsIn war we know is no romanceAnd I pray our child will never seeA little corporal againPoint toward a foreign shoreCaptivate the hearts of menSave my soul from evil, lordAnd heal this soldiers heartIll trust in thee to keep me, lordIm done with bonaparte
