Done with Bonaparte - Live

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
 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.