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This diary entry is written by Himawari. ( View all entries )
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Leningrad.Category: (general)
Saturday, 31 October 2009
09:03:48 PM (GMT)
Heart strings will be plucked.

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
Went off to school, and learned to serve his state.
Followed the rules, and drank his vodka straight - the only way to live, was to drown
the hate.
A Russian life was very sad, and such was life in Leningrad.

I was born in '49, a cold blood kid in McCarthy Time.
"Stop them at the 38th Parallel - blast those Yellow Reds to hell!"
And cold war kids were hard to kill, under their desks 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 and became a circus
The greatest happiness he'd ever found was making Russian children glad, that chilren
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, when I came to this place, to meet him eye to eye and face to face,
He made my daughter lagh, then he embraced.

We never knew what friends we had, until we came to Leningrad.
Last edited: 31 October 2009

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