You will hear thunder and remember me
And think: she wanted storms
The rim of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson
And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire
That day in Moscow, it will all come true
When, for the last time, I take my leave
And hasten to the heights that I have longed for
Leaving my shadow still to be with you
And hasten to the heights that I have longed for
Leaving my shadow still to be with you
And hasten to the heights that I have longed for
Leaving my shadow still to be with you
The rim of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson
And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire
That day in Moscow, it will all come true
When, for the last time, I take my leave
The rim of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson
And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire
That day in Moscow, it will all come true
When, for the last time, I take my leave
That day in Moscow, it will all come true
When, for the last time, I take my leave
That day in Moscow, it will all come true
When, for the last time, I take my leave
And hasten to the heights that I have longed for
Leaving my shadow still to be with you
And hasten to the heights that I have longed for
Leaving my shadow still to be with you
You will hear thunder and remember me
And think: she wanted storms