Take me to the magic of the moment on a glory night, where the children of tomorrow dream away, in the wind of change. Walking down the street, distant memories are buried in the past forever. I follow the Moskva down to Gorky Park listening to the wind of change.
Take me to the magic of the moment on a glory night, where the children of tomorrow share their dreams, with you and me. Take me to the magic of the moment on a glory night, where the children of tomorrow dream away in the wind of change. The wind of change blows straight into the face of time; like a stormwind that will ring the freedom bell. For peace of mind, let your balalaika sing what my guitar wants to say.
