Memory hurts – our hearts are stung
But sometimes I think the pain is for
Not a particular place but more
A special time – when we were young
For freer days when we knew hope
And what we felt we had was – scope.
Moscow nights are minus one
Moscow days have lots of fun
A certain amount of painful fun...
Alison, my Alison
Though the afternoon is frowning
In our love our fears are drowning...