Russians and Americans

Al Stewart
 So here we stand at the edge of 1984
 Bracing ourselves once again
 For the storm approaching as those
 Who long before huddled in caves from the rain
 The enemy's face is so hard to see
 Sometimes it seems that I see him in you
 Sometimes in me
 Who can he be?
 No use consulting the prophets and leaders they all disagree
 Russians and Americans, here's a song for you
 Who carry the weight of the world on your heads
 Russians and Americans, tell me if it's true
 You really believe all the things that you've said
 The red-white-and-blue running into the red
 From the wars of Europe, the pilgrim fathers
 Set off with their hopes and their bond
 Some settled down by the coast, others crossed
 The mountains and into the flatlands beyond
 From scramble and dust of Muscovite streets
 Merchants develop the trade routes,
 And open the door to the East.
 Pioneer waves
 Choked by the cold breath of winter,
 Or baked by the heat of the day
 Russians and Americans
 Passing through the fire of revolution and coming of age
 Russians and Americans
 Driven by desire, two players push to the front of the stage
 The whole world now watches each move that you make
 Two runners caught in the thrill of the race,
 The finishing line is as far as the stars that the satellites chase
 Why quicken the pace?
 Why does it seem that you choose to lose reason before losing face?
 Russians and Americans
 Driven by the past, the third world moves in the shadows you cast
 Russians and Americans
 Could turn the world to dust, so much to live for, so much undiscussed
 So much in common and so little trust
 From the streets of Athens and Rome the voices still echo to crumbling walls
 Look to the past and remember no empire rises that sooner or later won't fall
 Forever the changes we still have to face
 Some people say that a country is more and idea than a place
 Though nothing is safe
 We still choose the mark that we leave on the open canvas of space
 Russians and Americans
 Maybe you should see into the heart of the world, not its head
 Russians and Americans
 If you want to be the feet of the world, better mind where you tread,
 The footsteps of history are left where you step
 So here we stand at the edge of 1984