I was reading through the writings of Lenin
Where he said that it could safely be assumed
If we continue to pursue the system
All the people trapped within it shall be doomed
It made such sense that
I grabbed my rucksack
And I jumped on the first jumbo to the East
To the heartland of poets and composers
At last my tortured guilty conscience was released
Down the steps to Sheremet'eva airport
I took a deep breath of the place for which I longed
Of my contact just a grainy old picture
And she looked just like the lady from James Bond
And then she saw me
And I saw beauty
I was a convert to the Anglo-Russian peace
And then she said "Do you not think I am attractive?
Give me the photo, the photograph of me"
La yooblo televisa, la yooblo video
Spaciba pop music, spaciba Rolling Stones
We were taken to her high rise quarters
I was told to stay there by my pretty Muscovite
But my head had such a need for information
That I crept into her bed that very night
"Give me some Bolshoi
Show me your Tolstoy
Show me the rows and rows of icons in your home"
But in her bedroom was a portrait of Thatcher
And on her t-shirt was Sylvester Stallone
La yooblo televisa, la yooblo video
Spaciba pop music, spaciba Rolling Stones
But at last I did away to merry England
I shed a tear as I disembarked the plane
And I wondered why my suitcase was so heavy
So I opened it and there she was again (and now)
She wants a motorbike
She wants a website
She wants a silicone injection in her breast
All I'd wanted was my piece of Communism
But she had to have the Capitalist West
La yooblo televisa, la yooblo video
Spaciba pop music, spaciba Rolling Stones