A artist came out of nowhere with a Messianic idea.
Not peaceful, not watercolorist from Linz.
Ours is said to be due to the fact that he fought the communists with spray and a paper
In tefalen he began to talk about the merits of his number:
The martial law was its component and will fight.
He painted neatly on the walls of a slogan that individual told him to,
By not inventing anything of himself, the hero showed a role.
But the problem is that it was a lumberjack that old Polish soup in his name
And he was soaking and loitering in confabulation and chronology
The president and the others, like he doesn't see any another way.
Shine like a hero, empathize with greatness, that's what the small man wanted.
However, the soup in the name of the acid did and nobody listens to it in a blissful way.
The law applies as it understands it, only it doesn't seem to know much.
The guy's talking about wood chopping and he doesn't know if it's any more.
Arrests and settlements are announced due to the fact that for him almost everything is treason.
And his friends are insecure to see if anything rains in his head.
And this in Hungary a car with an empty trunk is going to send
Because that's where Madziar will hunt the most crucial animal.
It is on our misery that I want rokosz and lawlessness to introduce in a slawola.
Gaulajter claps joyfully and nods to the lumberjack
Imdecency to the people to deliver many.
Your vain lumberjack, your intentions and your malice, for your peace will not come.
The small man will not be able to scope the peaks of the mountains.
With broken soup nothing but heartburn and indigestion of good will last
And here's your vain talk. You can't get aid from anywhere,
And in a large hurry to escape, we advise you to keep,
When she and her patron and the loudmouth remained. You will be forgotten by the large unhappiness of the Nation.
The soup will be poured out at the end so we don't get any more poison.
