not tonight, Josephine.
in an army's strength therein lies the denouement. From here you're haunting me. By the Seine so beautiful, only not to be of use - impossible.
so strange, victory - 1,200 spires, the only sound. Moscow burning. Empty like the Tuileries. Like a dream Vienna seems, only not to be of use - impossible.
in the last extremity - to advance or not to advance - I hear you laughing.
even still you're calling me "not
tonight, not tonight,