Transit Moscow, 3:15 am,
The road and the sign and the rain,
He sees the border guards gaping at his tank,
And says: Open that gate while you still can,
I am the armadillo man.
It does not matter what country you are in,
He says stay here on base with your own kind,
But he knew a patriot needs a strong free hand,
Now he’s off to torch that red-infested land,
No you can’t stop the armadillo man.
Loom through the rain,
He’s on course for destiny,
With a whoosh and a whistle and a bang,
Bye bye armadillo man.
At least he went to see the other side,
While other people never even tried.