Viktor was born in the spring of ´44

And never saw his father anymore

A child of sacrifice, a child of war

Another son who never had a father after Leningrad

Went off to school and learned to serve the state

Followed the rules and drank his vodka straight

The only way to live was drown the hate

A Russian life was very sad

And such was life in Leningrad



I was born in ´49

A cold war kid in McCarthy time

Stop ´em at the 38th Parallel

Blast those yellow reds to hell

And cold war kids were hard to kill

Under their desk in an air raid drill

Haven´t they heard we won the war

What do they keep on fighting for?



Viktor was sent to some Red Army town

Served out his time, became a circus clown

The greatest happiness he´d ever found

Was making Russian children glad

And children lived in Leningrad



But children lived in Levittown

And hid in the shelters underground

Until the soviets turned their ships around

And tore the Cuban missiles down

And in that bright October sun

We knew our childhood days were done

And I watched my friends go off to war

What do they keep on fighting for?



And so my child and I came to this place

To meet him eye to eye and face to face

He made my daughter laugh, then we embraced

We never knew what friends we had

Until we came to Leningrad