Twelve cold nights in Brussels, in exile. With my love by my side, and all the eyes of Europe upon us. The curtains drawn, their traps are set, it's us against them. But I have a plan, an idea. It's all we have, our only option.
If we split, and go our separate ways, they can't catch us both, no they can't catch us both. If we split, and go our separate ways, they can't catch us both, no they can't have us all. But if you should be captured or worse, I will find you. It's all we have, our only option.
It's new moon, it's pitch black. The night is on our side and I feel the rush, the pull, of all the odds stacked in our favor. Oh tonight, it has to be, we have to split up. If they get us both, it's over, just say goodbye to what hundreds have already died for.
You take the road, and I will take the alley, meet me noon tomorrow at Two Windmills. Go with my love, you mean everything to me. The time, it is right, everything is still.