1 2 3 4 Although Im young I got a job to do Hid the microfilm in the lining of my shoe Call it a business trip Got to hide inside my trench coat and be clever I got my papers and a cyanide pill My Polaroids a taser in disguise Theres a base in the hills And the wheat fields looks like Kansas in November
Astrovia, sweet comrade, your nation is your gun Your love reads like the broken code you sent me One last contact in red square, unless I have to run And the long arms of the KGB detect me
Cant trust a soul, secret messenger Just the rules that lie like circuits in your brain And a cool .45. The wind is ice and foreign air tastes strange
I.C.B.M. Bang! Bang! Youre dead! No one left to worry Kiss me quick, now I have to hurry Our last contact in red square, unless I have to run And the long arms of the CIA detect me
Hey! Hey! Hey!
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