Cavalier Garde, your days are shorter, and hence, the sweeter your reward.
The trumpet calls, the curtain’s opened, and distant swords are clearly heard.
The voice of trumpets is still fading, yet the commander’s on the horse.
Don’t ever promise a young maiden an everlasting love on earth.
In vain your innocent amusement, naively, you make last a while.
Until the battlefield consumes you, your quest for glory is futile.
And sweet as moonlight ever may be, there’s still a worry for the worse.
Don’t ever promise a young maiden an everlasting love on earth.
Champagne is flowing like a river, your vision’s pleasantly obscured.
And all appears to be forever, and all appears to be assured.
If cast or wooden, fate has made it for each one's share to be a cross.
Don’t ever promise a young maiden an everlasting love on earth.