Russian Market

My parents' generation have been taught to be silent
Because they understand that silence brings them safety

Yeah
The quiet American is the one to keep an eye on
The first to suggest that we let bygones be bygones
Red Army hand grenades, Soviet sidearms
Muzzle flash lights the street, ricochet my arm
Behind the Russian market, the car is where he parked it
In the back seat, a briefcase, inside a list of targets
Names that are familiar, doctors and engineers
Where it's double underlined, it's bound to end in tears
Fears turned to reality, turned to missing years
Snatched 'em up from the street, and then they disappear
Is this fiction here? Nah, you best be listenin'
She was tipped off, ready when they brought the pistols in
Twistin' the story, they said that if he came for her
Then he'd be sorry, and so the hunter turned quarry
Silence creeps in as the shooter's bike departs
Put up a good fight, but he should've fought twice as hard

So run along, get a message back to brother number one
Everyone's time comes, but not today
Who prays, waits, weeps for the assassin
When you live by the sword and die in the same fashion?
So run along, get a message back to brother number one
Everyone's time comes, but not today
Who prays, waits, weeps for the assassin
When you live by the sword and die in the same fashion?

No ID, nothin' in his coat, the man's a ghost
Clad in black from head to toe, he'd never let you go
'Cause your own fam might not defy orders
Concealed in an ox-cart, fled for the Thai border
You could be a famous singer, just about anyone
A name on a marquee won't save you from S21
Paris or Saigon, somewhere they'll never find her
Destroyed the records, but the songs live inside her
Surprised by a tyrant, disguised as a teacher
Suddenly untimely demise was a feature
She was a chanteuse of refined taste, sublime grace
Made her escape, 'cause malice takes many shapes
Despite wowing the crowd, left post-haste
'Cause no one was safe, from paddy fields to the palace gates
Now that right is wrong, left her fate to a higher God
They'll be no final requiem for the firing squad

So run along, get a message back to brother number one
Everyone's time comes, but not today
Who prays, waits, weeps for the assassin
When you live by the sword and die in the same fashion?
So run along, get a message back to brother number one
Everyone's time comes, but not today
Who prays, waits, weeps for the assassin
When you live by the sword and die in the same fashion?