Russians and Americans - Al Stewart

So here we stand at the edge of 1984, bracing ourselves once again

For the storm approaching as those who long before huddled in caves from the

rain

The enemy’s face is so hard to see, sometimes it seems that I see him in you

Sometimes in me, who can he be?

No use consulting the prophets and leaders

they all disagree

Russians and Americans, here’s a song for you

Who carry the weight of the world on your heads

Russians and Americans, tell me if it’s true

You really believe all the things that you’ve said

The red-white-and-blue running into the red

From the wars of Europe, the pilgrim fathers set off with their hopes and their

bond

Some settled down by the coast, others crossed the mountains and into the

flatlands beyond

From scramble and dust of Muscovite streets, merchants develop the trade routes

and open the door to the East

Pioneer waves choked by the cold breath of winter or baked by the heat of the

day

Russians and Americans, passing through the fire

Of revolution and coming of age

Russians and Americans, driven by desire

Two players push to the front of the stage

The whole world now watches each move that you make

Two runners caught in the thrill of the race, the finishing line is as far as

the stars that the satellites chase

Why quicken the pace?

Why does it seem that you choose to lose reason before

losing face?

Russians and Americans, driven by the past

The third world moves in the shadows you cast

Russians and Americans could turn the world to dust

So much to live for, so much undiscussed

So much in common and so little trust

From the streets of Athens and Rome, the voices still echo to crumbling walls

Look to the past and remember no empire rises that sooner or later won’t fall

Forever the changes we still have to face, some people say that a country is

more and idea than a place

Though nothing is safe, we still choose the mark that we leave on the open

canvas of space

Russians and Americans

Maybe you should see into the heart of the world, not its head

Russians and Americans

If you want to be the feet of the world, better mind where you tread

The footprints of history are left where you step

So here we stand at the edge of 1984