A Season Underground

My own Napoleon met his fate With a smile on his face in summer time By all accounts ventured he was running late For a series of dates with his own lifetime Bemused by your ambush at his garden gate His head was twisted by your nonsense rhyme For I was he when we came to be And I can't always free all the hostages you take inside of me And when it goes wrong I sing my own song It's a sad song I'll only sing for you And, when I sing loud It cuts the noise out And only you remain, now As the games end Like an old friend I call the right one in Then there's the strange case That we both make For keeping the out-takes in Bye bye Napoleon, I've boxed the tape But it's getting late, and I won't make time To re-run the chase scene, endless one-off takes None of which make good on the finish line Send Arthur Wellesley my warm embrace But I have his author on the other line For that was me when this came to be And I can't always free all the hostages you take inside of me And when it goes wrong I sing my own song It's a sad song I'll only sing for you And, when I sing loud It cuts the noise out And only you remain, now As the games end Like an old friend I call the right one in Then there's the strange case That we both make For keeping the out-takes