What a time, in 89: We drank our fill of Russian wine Your laughter rang through alleyways And set my heart ablaze I worshipped you in worn-out jeans In frigid flats with old latrines The city lights, they seemed to gleam More brightly in those days Now twenty years have come and gone But still your laughter lingers on And weary eyes of dogs and men They fill my thoughts again Not much has changed, for all they say: The rich still rule; the poor still pray: I see them kneeling everywhere these days And where are you my friend? What a time, in 89: The world was ours, and you were mine We sang until the wall came falling down: What an awful sound