Strachy na Lachy - Chory na wszystko

The hatred is pouring away from my liver,
like a tram on Patriarch Ponds*
My pillow - millimetres from railways,
So I have face like an old Bulgarian

Today Kennedy's been killed in my mind,
It's 23rd November
Mud of Polish autumn is falling behind my collar,
Trucks on the highways are overtaking one another

Sometimes I am a cook, who wasn't born in the kitchen,
I get bored at the opera
I go only to the pubs where no one knows me,
I leave empty dishes behind me

I'm like a swallow that lost spring
And cold winter stuck to me again
Cheap loser sells me cold tea,
Editor Piggy from the "Carrion" newspaper.

I suffer from everything, darling
And I haven't got an idea what's waiting for me here
I suffer from everything
Disease sits on my lashes

I suffer from everything, darling
And as a gimpy dog I bark
I suffer from everything suffer from everything
Disease sits on my lashes.

I was punched in the face with a Calumet**
when I was fighting with a horse, again
Then Olof Palme called me,
He wanted to speak to Kuroń

You still and constantly hold against me that
I don't live in Punk Rock City anymore
I live in completely different part of Poland
And I suffer from Stockholm's syndrome

I sing only 'bout Poland and bad love,
Lame songs talking about failed policy
Poland comes to me for autographs,
If it's about love - I'm nothing but an illusion.

We will neither be like Bonnie and Clyde
Nor heads and trails
We will be such as this rainy May,
As all those ugly people in Tesco

I suffer from everything, darling
And I haven't got an idea what's waiting for me here
I suffer from everything,
Disease sits on my lashes.

I suffer from everything, darling
And as a gimpy dog I bark,
I suffer from everything, suffer from everything,
Disease sits on my lashes.

*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Patriarch_Ponds
**Camulet - smoking pipe usually smoked to seal a covenant or treaty