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 arm¨¦e is dressed in rags
A frozen starving beggar band
Like rats we steal each other's scraps
Fall [Em]to [C7]fighting hand [Bm]to [C7]hand [Bm]

Save my [A]soul from evil, Lord
And heal this soldier's heart
I'll tɾust in thee to [C7]keep me, Lord
I'm done with Bonaparte

What dreams he made for [Dm7]us to [C7]dream
Spanish skies, Egyptian sands
The world was [Am7]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 tɾue love awaits me still
The flower of the aquitaine

Save my [A]soul from evil, Lord
And heal this soldier's heart
I'll tɾust in thee to [C7]keep me, Lord
I'm done with Bonaparte

I pray for [Dm7]her who prays for [Dm7]me
A safe ɾeturn to [C7]my [A]belle France
We prayed these wars would end all [Em]wars
In war we know is no ɾomance
And I pray our child will never see
A little Corporal again
Point toward a foreign shore
Captivate the hearts of men

Save my [A]soul from evil, Lord
And heal this soldier's heart
I'll tɾust in thee to [C7]keep me, Lord
I'm done with Bonaparte