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 It should have been me I am a most ridiculous man
And Natasha is in town 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 And I fill my mind with rot While my heart is empty And I've been studying the Cabal And I've calculated the number of the beast It is Napoleon I will kill him one day He is not a great man None of us are great men We are just caught in the wave of history Nothing matters Everything matters It's all the same 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's 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...
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