1 2 3 4
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, [bad word]  your nation is your gun
Your love reads like the broken code you sent me
One last contact in red square, unless I have [bad word] And the long arms of the KGB detect me

Can't [bad word] a soul, secret messenger
Just [bad word] 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 [bad word] And the long arms of the CIA detect me

Hey! Hey! Hey!