I cannot not say,
That their coffee I consider gourmet.

And everywhere I turn,
I see people looking serious and stern

And it was not wise to assume
That there would be internet in the stateroom

But my e-mails I could check
In the library or on the sun deck

But then I must not forget that now
I am not home but in Moscow

The Red square gleamed in its glory
With a history of more then one horrible story

In and out St Basil cathedral with its domes of gold
Everything was tightly controlled.

The Gum department store
Had higher prices then I ever saw before

The prizes in this luxury zone
Are said to be comparable to the numbers on ones phone

Changing of the guards at the unknown solders grave
Can be observed every hour year round in a hot or cold wave

Lenin’s tomb of marble in red and black
We are told will be moved back

Too St Petersburg to be buried next to no other
But his Mother

The people believe from all the noise of the festivities on this square
He could wake up again to create another scare.