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  Although I'm young I got a job to do
  Hid the microfilm in the lining of my shoe
  Call it a business trip
  Got to hide inside my trench coat and be clever
  I got my papers and a cyanide pill
  My Polaroid's a taser in disguise
  There's a base in the hills
  And the wheat fields looks like Kansas in November
    Astrovia, sweet comrade, your nation is your gun
  Your love reads like the broken code you sent me
  One last contact in red square, unless I have to run
  And the long arms of the KGB detect me
    Can't trust a soul, secret messenger
  Just the rules that lie like circuits in your brain
  And a cool .45. The wind is ice and foreign air tastes strange
    I.C.B.M. Bang! Bang! You're dead!
  No one left to worry
  Kiss me quick, now I have to hurry
  Our last contact in red square, unless I have to run
  And the long arms of the CIA detect me
    Hey! Hey! Hey!