Lyrics: Dave Malloy
Music: Dave Malloy
ALL
In nineteenth-century Russia, we write letters
We write letters
We put down in writing
What is happening in our minds
Once it's on the paper, we feel better
We feel better
It's like some kind of clarity
When the letter's done and signed
PIERRE
Dear Andrey,
Dear old friend,
How goes the war?
Do we march on the French splendidly?
Do our cannons crack and cry?
Do our bullets whistle and sing?
Does the air reek with smoke?
I wish I were there,
With death at my heels
Dolokhov is recovering
He will be all right, the good man
And Natasha is in town
Your bride to be so full of life
And mischief
I should visit
I hear she is more beautiful than ever
How I envy you and your happiness
Here at home I drink and read
And drink and read
And drink
But I think I've finally found it
What my mind has needed
For I've been studying the Cabal
And I've calculated the number of the beast
It is Napoleon!
Six hundred threescore and six
And I will kill him one day
He is no great man
None of us are great men
We are caught in the wave of history
Nothing matters
Everything matters
It's all the same
Oh, if only I could not see it
This dreadful, terrible "it"
ALL
In nineteenth-century Russia, we write letters
We write letters
We put down in writing
What is happening in our minds
NATASHA
Dear Andrey,
What more can I write
After all that has happened?
What am I to do
If I love him
And the other one too?
Must I break it off?
These terrible questions
NATASHA & PIERRE
I see nothing but the candle in the mirror
No visions of the future
So lost and alone
NATASHA
And what of Princess Mary?
MARY
Dear Natasha,
I am in deep despair
At the misunderstanding there is between us
Whatever my father's feelings might be
I beg you to believe
That I cannot help loving you
He is a tired old man and must be forgiven
Please, come see us again
NATASHA
Dear Princess Mary,
Oh, what am I to write?
How do I choose?
What do I do?
I shall never be happy again
PIERRE
These terrible questions
MARY
I'm so alone here
NATASHA & PIERRE
So alone in here
MARY
And I see nothing
NATASHA, PIERRE & MARY
I see nothing but the candle in the mirror
No visions of the future
So lost and alone
ALL
In nineteenth-century Russia, we write letters
We write letters
We put down in writing
What is happening in our minds
ANATOLE
Dear Natalie,
A love letter
A love letter
A love letter
NATASHA
A letter from him,
From the man that I love
DOLOKHOV
A letter which I composed
ALL
A love letter
A love letter
A love letter
A love letter
A love letter
A love letter
A love letter
A love letter
ANATOLE
Natalie, Natalie, Natalie,
I must love you or die
Natalie, Natalie, Natalie,
If you love me, say yes
And I will come and steal you away
Steal you out of the dark
Natalie, Natalie, Natalie,
I want nothing more
Natalie, Natalie, Natalie,
I must love you or die
Natalie, Natalie, Natalie,
If you love me, say yes
And I will come and steal you away
Steal you out of the dark
Natalie, Natalie, Natalie,
I want nothing more
Just say yes
Just say yes
Just say yes
NATASHA
Yes, yes, I love him
How else could I have his letter in my hand?
I read it twenty times,
Thirty times, forty times!
Each and every word
I love him, I love him