Kult - Baranek

Oh, these people, they're filthy swine
Talking nonsense about my girl of mine
Spreading lies about her addictions
It’s just pity and contradictions

That’s how it goes when envy bites
When someone lacks love in their life
They spread rumours, but their spiteful woes
Can’t change how my vision grows

She wears a floral wreath on her hair
Holds a green twig in her hand with care
A lamb runs before her, so free
And above her, a butterfly I see
A lamb runs before her, so free
And above her, a butterfly I see

They hurt my girl, try to bring her down
Slander her name, these twisted clowns
Want to drown her in seas of spite
Paranoids, sadists, devoid of light

Drenched in filth and deceit, they dwell
With fake smiles, they cast their spell
Trying to pull her into their mud, but stay away!
I know her better anyway

She wears a floral wreath on her hair
Holds a green twig in her hand with care
A lamb runs before her, so free
And above her, a butterfly I see
A lamb runs before her, so free
And above her, a butterfly I see

They saw her again with some guy
Off to Saint-Tropez, she went by
Oh Lord, she struggled, it’s no lie
Cleaning floors on yachts, scraping by

But why are her hands still so white?
I wanted to ask but lost my might
She bowed, waved with grace, and leaned on me
And I sank into her like the sea

Oh, the girl tries with all her might
Making money, driving her Jaguar bright
It’s hard to balance work and love, you see
So she visits less often to be with me

Yet she blushes, and shyly asks
Why I look like I’m wearing a mask
Why I grind my teeth when she asks in jest
“Do you think my bust is the best?”

She wears a floral wreath on her hair
Holds a green twig in her hand with care
A lamb runs before her, so free
And above her, a butterfly I see
A lamb runs before her, so free
And above her, a butterfly I see