Behind the Iron Curtain

25 Oct

Berlin;

Chase the little boy,

Chase him down the little road.

And when you glimpse red.

You fear you may lose your head.

 

In Prague;

Jump on a bicycle;

Loose your self in the stony streets.

And when you glimpse red.

You fear you must salute.

 

And then in Warsaw;

Explore the recent ruins;

Admire death camps.

And when you glimpse red.

You fear you must obey.

 

Make it to Budapest;

Savor the best of chocolates.

And when you glimpse red.

You fear the voice in your mind.

 

Live until Moscow;

Raise a toast at the Kremlin.

Admire the ancient foods

And when you glimpse red;

You fear you have made it too far.

 

Look back at the curtain;

It’s no longer there.

That’s because you’ve faced it.

And it has rusted away.

 

A barrier of the mind.

Melted;

You’ve become red.

But you can’t say you don’t like it.

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