The old soviet-union

It must have been winter when the old tank skip
Sailed through the Dardanelles into the Black sea
Which was full of ice flakes.

The ship was loading oil in a town I have forgotten
The name of, but I do remember it was sparse
On-street lights had a wide boulevard and few cars.

We found a restaurant in a building the looked
An office block, we ate caviar and drank white wine.
A place for the Nomenclature in ill-fitting suits.

The old soviet - union still existed in all its dullness
And general sadness, which I think is over now
people who make good wine can’t be kept down.