What sort of Bolshevik is this
Climbing on the armored car?
He wears a little buttoned cap,
He can’t pronounce the letter r.
His arm is lifted to the sky,
Can you guess who this is? Try!
The guelder rose is blooming in the field, by the stream.
It blooms because our Lenin told it to, it seems.
Piggies in the flowers gather roses sweet,
The piggishness is Brezhnev’s and now there’s no more meat.
Get off your high horse, Raisa,
You’re no queen, no actress either,
Don’t wear those furs for foreign fans,
In the Soviet Union you’re a flash in the pan.
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