Son of Corsica, born apart
The glory of France seared on my heart
Though my fifty-one years seem short to you
My time was not mine
And there’s nothing we can do
Tuscan nobility
Thrust from my home
Made my own legacy
Built my own throne
Freedom financial
Fearsome fighters
Lighting the flame of my empire
Victory, dominion
‘Til Waterloo
The Old Guard defeated
There’s nothing we can do
There’s nothing
There’s nothing
Brought peace to the masses
No sovereignty
My will made their fortune
My code bound them to me
Exile and infamy
Were what I was due
My kingdom, an island
There’s nothing we can do
My return to power
Was very short lived
The captors called
But my wife never did
A glorious homecoming
But a cut-short coup
Defeated, I retreated
There’s nothing we can do
There’s nothing
There’s nothing
There’s nothing
There’s nothing
There’s nothing
There’s nothing
I died on St Helena
Forsaken by friends
Let history judge my worth in the end
From an unmarked grave to a glorious tomb
My story has ended
There’s nothing we can do
