Contact In Red Square - Blondie

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!