Not tonight Josephine, in an army's strength therein lies the denouement.
But from here you're haunting me. By the Seine oh, so beautiful.
Only not to be of use. Impossible-possible... yes.
So strange, victory, twelve hundred spires, the only sound Moscow burning.
Empty like the Tuileries. Like a dream, mmm... Vienna seems.
Only not to be of use. Impossible-possible... yes.
In the last extremity, to advance or not to advance, I hear you laughing.
Even still you're calling me, "Not tonight... not tonight... not tonight."
Josephine...
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