Waterloo
Silently they creep,
Waiting for the Emperor
To tell them when they should strike
They are all ready to smell English Blood,
To stand in the invaded territory,
Proclaiming it for France.
The petit emperor stands tall on his horse,
"Allez Viens!"
He shouts, they charge.

When the smoke clears,
They try to flee, The English on their tails,
The blood of their commrades leak into the soil.
The Emperor has failed.

France est mortt pour maintenant!