zavřít

Done With Bonaparte

Text písně Done With Bonaparte

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 Armée is dressed in rags 
A frozen starving beggar band 
Like rats we steal each other's scraps 
Fall to fighting hand to hand


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 
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


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


I pray for her who prays for me 
A safe return to my belle France 
We prayed these wars would end all wars 
In war we know is no romance


And I pray our child will never see 
A little Corporal again 
Point toward a foreign shore 
Captivate the hearts of men


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

					

Diskografie Mark Knopfler – Mark Knopfler