All the Way from Moscow

Organize my distance
Though I won't be home for Christmas

The Russian rain was falling on the golden arch
I felt your interest fading through the wire
And the gypsy kept on playing his nylon string guitar
All the way from Moscow to New York

And I watched the dirty river roll by
And I dedicate this feeling to the ones in my life
I watched the dirty river roll by
And they'll medicate the culture so you're high and dry

And you don't get your money back, kid
You don't get your money back kid

The silver sky was falling, and they played the hits
She was born in 1980 from a Cold War Kiss
She said I believe in something, but I don't know why
My parents felt the same, but they'd never admit it

And I watched the dirty river roll by
And I dedicate this feeling to the ones in my life
I watched the dirty river roll by
And they'll medicate the culture so you're high and dry

And you don't get your money back, kid
You don't get your money back, kid

Well I would have liked to have been there
But I waited so damn long
And I had a funny feeling you were gone

She said the twin towers was an inside job
The boys went to the desert and we partied in a wartime fog
And the gypsy kept on playing his nylon string guitar
All the way from Moscow to New York

And I watched the dirty river roll by
And I dedicate this feeling to the ones in my life
I watched the dirty river roll by
And they'll medicate the culture so you're high and dry

And you don't get your money back, kid
You don't get your money back, kid
You know you'll never get your money back, kid
You know you'll never get your money back, kid

Organize my distance
Though I won't be home for Christmas
Gonna organize my distance
Though I won't be home for Christmas
Gonna organize my distance
No, I won't be home for Christmas



Credits
Writer(s): Jesse F. Malin, Donald Dilego
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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