All The Way From Moscow

Organize my distance*
Though I won't be home for Christmas
Ooo-oo-ooo-oo
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
Ooo-oo-ooo-oo
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
Ooo-oo-ooo-oo
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
Ooo-oo-ooo-oo
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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