We've paid in hell since Moscow burned
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As Cossacks tear us piece by piece
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Our dead are strewn a hundred leagues
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Though death would be a sweet release
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And our grande arm?e is dressed in rags
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A frozen starving beggar band
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Like rats we steal each other's scraps
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Fall to fighting hand to hand
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Save my soul from evil, Lord
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And heal this soldier's heart
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I'll trust in thee to keep me, Lord
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I'm done with Bonaparte
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What dreams he made for us to dream
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Spanish skies, Egyptian sands
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The world was ours, we marched upon
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Our little Corporal's command
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And I lost an eye at Austerlitz
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The sabre slash yet gives me pain
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My one true love awaits me still
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The flower of the aquitaine
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Save my soul from evil, Lord
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And heal this soldier's heart
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I'll trust in thee to keep me, Lord
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I'm done with Bonaparte
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I pray for her who prays for me
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A safe return to my belle France
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We prayed these wars would end all wars
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In war we know is no romance
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And I pray our child will never see
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A little Corporal again
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Point toward a foreign shore
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Captivate the hearts of men
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Save my soul from evil, Lord
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And heal this soldier's heart
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I'll trust in thee to keep me, Lord
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I'm done with Bonaparte
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Done With Bonaparte
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| Mark Knopfler |