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
Cold War kids were hard to kill
Under their desks in an air-raid drill
Haven’t they heard that 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
Children lived in Levittown
Hid in the shelters underground
And 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