| When I left my home and my family
|
| my mother said to me
|
| «Son, it’s not how many Germans you kill that counts
|
| It’s how many people you set free!»
|
| So I packed my bags
|
| brushed my cap
|
| Walked out into the world
|
| seventeen years old
|
| Never kissed a girl
|
| Took the train to Voronezh
|
| that was as far as it would go Changed my sacks for a uniform
|
| bit my lip against the snow
|
| I prayed for mother Russia
|
| in the summer of '43
|
| And as we drove the Germans back
|
| I really believed
|
| That God was listening to me We howled into Berlin
|
| tore the smoking buildings down
|
| Raised the red flag high
|
| burnt the reichstag brown
|
| I saw my first American
|
| and he looked a lot like me He had the same kinda farmer’s face
|
| said he’d come from some place called Hazzard, Tennessee
|
| Then the war was over
|
| my discharge papers came
|
| Me and twenty hundred others
|
| went to Stettiner for the train
|
| Kiev! |
| said the commissar
|
| from there your own way home
|
| But I never got to Kiev
|
| we never came by home
|
| Train went north to the Taiga
|
| we were stripped and marched in file
|
| Up the great siberian road
|
| for miles and miles and miles and miles
|
| Dressed in stripes and tatters
|
| in a gulag left to die
|
| All because Comrade Stalin was scared that
|
| we’d become too westernized!
|
| Used to love my country
|
| used to be so young
|
| Used to believe that life was
|
| the best song ever sung
|
| I would have died for my country
|
| in 1945
|
| But now only one thing remains
|
| but now only one thing remains
|
| But now only one thing remains
|
| but now only one thing remains
|
| The brute will to survive! |