Kazik - W Polskę idziemy

During the week, we’re as quiet as a moth
During the week, we don’t care, we’ve had enough
But if a man takes his role too seriously, you see
His back starts aching, and so does his knee

During the week, we’re as grey as the smoke
Nothing ever happens, ‘cause with whom to joke?
And life, like a tight old shirt, squeezes us thin
Till we feel the urge, and every now and then…

Into Poland, we go, dear gentlemen, into Poland we go!
Before the first shot kicks in our heads, the second will flow
Down to the last drop, for luck, for kids, for the health of the wife
Whatever was or wasn’t, just drink it up, bring the thirst to life!

The world that once bored us suddenly starts to glow
We gorge on herring, our mates are laughing, the girls turn pale, oh!
Our hands are itching, our eyes are burning, shining like a torch
Till dawn kicks us back to Monday’s porch

During the week, brother, the hangover hits you slow
Whether you’re lying or standing, it’s just how things go
During the week, your eyes are heavy, your back is sore
And above your kidneys, well, you can’t jump any more, you know…

During the week, wives in flannel snore through the night
And you wrap your throbbing head up tight
Then you glare at the people with an evil eye
And suddenly, something stirs inside, and like a flash…

Into Poland, we go, dear gentlemen, into Poland we go!
Before the first shot kicks in our heads, to people we flow
Listen, my comrade, to red poppies, to heart and homeland
A shirt ripped open, here a Nazi bullet, here look — a war brand!

Then we’ll dream a colourful dream, a dream so bright
With our faces buried in a breaded pork delight
Still full of hope, though our heads weigh like lead
No force will drown us, eagles, hawks, till the end!

And then we’ll slow it down again, but then, full speed
And society will respect us, indeed!
We’ll get the kindest smiles from every guy
Thus grows, thus swells, our holy right…

Many will get misty-eyed, lost for words
A crude old skull, but inside, a soul unheard
And we, too, will feel something deep in our core
Brothers, countrymen, shake my hand — march in sync once more!

Into Poland, we go, into Poland we go, brothers so dear!
No damn misery will slow us down, you’ll rest at work, no fear!
Work is dull, work is small, work is dripping cheese
A lout or a hero — Saturday’s Poland, choose as you please!

When the morning comes, and the titans, hungover, rise
Then once again, dear brothers, we march, no disguise
No bad words, whether Łomża or Nakło, will strike us down
And should we ever run out of this — no, we won’t! Never in this town!