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   And cold war kids were hard to kill   Under their desk in an air raid drill   Haven´t they heard 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      But children lived in Levittown   And hid in the shelters underground   Until 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