So here we stand at the edge of 1984, bracing ourselves once again
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For the storm approaching as those who long before huddled in caves from the rain
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The enemy's face is so hard to see, sometimes it seems that I see him in you
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Sometimes in me, who can he be? No use consulting the prophets and leaders they all disagree.
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Russians and Americans, here's a song for you
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Who carry the weight of the world on your heads
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Russians and Americans, tell me if it's true
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You really believe all the things that you've said
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The red-white-and-blue running into the red.
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From the wars of Europe, the pilgrim fathers set off with their hopes and their bond
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Some settled down by the coast, others crossed the mountains and into the flatlands beyond
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From scramble and dust of Muscovite streets, merchants develop the trade routes and open the door to the East
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Pioneer waves choked by the cold breath of winter or baked by the heat of the day.
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Russians and Americans, passing through the fire
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Of revolution and coming of age
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Russians and Americans, driven by desire
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Two players push to the front of the stage
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The whole world now watches each move that you make.
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Two runners caught in the thrill of the race, the finishing line is as far as the stars that the satellites chase
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Why quicken the pace? Why does it seem that you choose to lose reason before losing faceA??
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Russians and Americans, driven by the past
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The third world moves in the shadows you cast
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Russians and Americans could turn the world to dust
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So much to live for, so much undiscussed
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So much in common and so little trust.
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From the streets of Athens and Rome, the voices still echo to crumbling walls
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Look to the past and remember no empire rises that sooner or later won't fall
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Forever the changes we still have to face, some people say that a country is more and idea than a place
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Though nothing is safe, we still choose the mark that we leave on the open canvas of space.
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Russians and Americans
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Maybe you should see into the heart of the world, not its head
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Russians and Americans
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If you want to be the feet of the world, better mind where you tread,
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The footprints of history are left where you step.
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So here we stand at the edge of 1984.
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Russians & Americans
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| Al Stewart |
