Lyrics:

It was one
In a million
It was one
In a million

It was lost to antiquity
From an age when the nations strove
Marching to the tune of the Ogre of France
But I found and read
The true story of a French lieutenant
Who found himself in need of a mount
'Twas 1805 and he was rising fast in a world
At war

It was one
In a million
It was one
In a million

She was mean and would rage
Killing a groom
Beating down her cage
And no one with any sense would ride her
She bit everyone

She had murder in her heart
When she took him by the throat and rode away
Did the same to a couple of others
Yet he bought the mare

It was one
In a million
It was one
In a million

And so two years would pass
Still he rides the meanest mare in the army
It had become a joke among the men
But they fought as one

'Bear this message of retreat and save the day!'
None ride faster than Lisette through the fray

Round-shot swift as death
Left no time to react
Tore clean through his helm
But left his head intact
Such was the shock of impact
It left him paralyzed
Yet he's aware of everything, everyone
This hill is lost, everything overrun

Why does the horse now tarry
While here he sits exposed
Though the square is broken
She seems but to doze
Whence fled all her fury
And where fled all her ire?
Once so full of anger
Once so full of fire

Run Lisette and become the wind
You must hasten now lest we meet our end
In this cannonade or by Russian lance
For at every turn 'tis with Death we dance
I Bellephoron, you the Pegasus
Grow you wings my friend for to fly you must
So now run Lisette, oh you wicked beast
You will leave us here to die so cruel!

Yet he's aware of everything

Then a grenadier struck a fateful blow
Thrust with his blade
Aimed at the Aide
But it missed and went wide
And it tore into Lisette
Into her thigh did it plunge
Caused her to lunge as she
Went for the throat
Still the Aide cannot move, he's wounded so

She's grabbed her foe
She's found her legs, so that
Now watch her go
Run, run like the wind
To murder him
Finds her spot
Clear of the lot
Stomping like death
Biting deep into flesh
She kills her man

Fast goes the horse and rider
Both wounded, but alive
But for the mare Lisette
Neither would survive
Run, for the blood is flowing
Fly, for the snow grows deep
Back to friendly faces
Round friendly fires to sleep

Run Lisette and become the wind
You must hasten now lest we meet our end
In this cannonade or by Russian lance
For at every turn 'tis with Death we dance
I Bellephoron, you the Pegasus
Grow you wings my friend for to fly you must
So now run Lisette, oh you wicked beast
Back to friendly fires, familiar faces

And now his thoughts are turning ever homeward
And thus the beast must bear him there and onward
And now his thoughts are turning ever homeward
And thus the beast must bear him there and onward