I follow the Moskua down to Gorky Park listening to the wind of change.
An August summer night, soldiers passing by...
...The world is closing in, did you ever think that we could be so close, like brothers?
The future is in the air, I can feel it everywhere blowing with...
...Take me to the magic of the moment on a glory night
where the children of tomorrow dream away in...
...Walking down the street, distant memories are buried in the past forever...
...share their dreams with you and me...
...blows straight into the face of time like a stormwind that will ring
the freedom bell for peace of mind.
Let your balalaika sing what my guitar wants to say...
An August summer night, soldiers passing by...
...The world is closing in, did you ever think that we could be so close, like brothers?
The future is in the air, I can feel it everywhere blowing with...
...Take me to the magic of the moment on a glory night
where the children of tomorrow dream away in...
...Walking down the street, distant memories are buried in the past forever...
...share their dreams with you and me...
...blows straight into the face of time like a stormwind that will ring
the freedom bell for peace of mind.
Let your balalaika sing what my guitar wants to say...
No comments:
Post a Comment