What a time, in 89:
We drank our fill of Russian wine
Your laughter rang through alleyways
And set my heart ablaze
I worshipped you in worn-out jeans
In frigid flats with old latrines
The city lights, they seemed to gleam
More brightly in those days
Now twenty years have come and gone
But still your laughter lingers on
And weary eyes of dogs and men
They fill my thoughts again
Not much has changed, for all they say:
The rich still rule; the poor still pray:
I see them kneeling everywhere these days
And where are you my friend?
What a time, in 89:
The world was ours, and you were mine
We sang until the wall came falling down:
What an awful sound