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Although I'm young I got a job to do
Hid the microfilm in the lining of my shoe
Call it a business trip
Got to hide inside my trenchcoat and be clever

I got my papers and a cyanide pill
My polaroid's a taser in disguise
There's a base in the hills
And the wheat fields looks like Kansas in November

Astrovia, sweet comrade, your nation is your gun
Your love reads like the broken code you sent me
One last contact in red square
Unless I have to run and the long arms of the KGB detect me

Can't trust a soul, secret messenger
Just the rules that lie like circuits in your brain and a cool 45
The wind is ice and foreign air tastes strange

ICBM
Bang! Bang! You're dead!
No one left to worry
Kiss me quick, now I have to hurry

Our last contact in red square
Unless I have to run
And the long arms of the CIA detect me
Hey!
Hey! Hey!