Żywiołak - Grzybobranie

"Mushrooms were abundant. Young lads take ruddy-cheek
Chanterelles, praised a lot in the Lithuanian songs
That are the marks of virginity, because they are not touched by maggots
And, what's strange, no insect sits on them
Young maidens chase after tall penny bun
Which is called 'the colonel of mushrooms' in songs
All hunt for the saffron milk cup!"

Puss, puss, lady - my love
Puss, puss, lady - there's the real bliss
Puss, puss, lady - truth, passion
Puss, puss, lady - the saint beast

A black limousine with covered lights
Enters the world of block-of-flats, passes the kissers
Behind the mirror glass the chauffeur takes a glance
Inside the greedy eyes fix the tailcoat
Then the next show begins
With exaltation and the only right shepherd mission
Seven sins are sold with grinning face
And harvest of immortal souls is reaped

The black limousine throws black light
On the words of hope, on the future incarnated sense
Special promotion, five sins were spent without hassle
The auction is still on, two remain
Satan grows fat, business is flourishing
"Miracle" goes into the ether, the genius of the colonel
To get the 'heaven stay after the death' as a prize
Pay the cash into account, the boss will bless it

The saffron milk cup grilled in the fire of hell
The saffron milk cup in the mohair sauce
The saffron milk cup served in the Sunday dish
The nourishing diet for the elderly maidens

The mob does not get it, ruddy maidens
Carrying mohair fox fur on their heads
That's the mark of virginity, not touched by maggots
And they are moved by the friendly radio only now
The mob does not get it that the satan gains strength
That he has never moved away from the damned city
Among the devotional articles you smell no sulphur
The mob swallows the miracles and claps hands, claps hands

Puss, puss, lady
Puss, puss, lady

I greet you heartily!
Hallelujah and forward!

When the satan feeds his willingness to sin
Feeds his fire, eating faeces
The mob bends its heads, pushes hands forward
Celebrating blindly the devil bacchanalia

And the tricky one prepares hell tortures
For the simple soulies in spiritual need
The army of 'believers' closes its ranks
To meet its idol in heaven

The saffron milk cup grilled in the fire of hell
The saffron milk cup in the mohair sauce
The saffron milk cup served in the Sunday dish
The nourishing diet for the elderly maidens

And the satan constantly prepares new tortures
Swells with lust and grows fat
His mask is still better and better fixed
The mob crows with lust and still claps hands, claps hands

Again he evaluates his new eurekas
Sucking heaven for dessert, burping leisurely
And he sets an out of this world price for his worldly thrones
Pushes the souls to the bottom of the hell, root and branch

The saffron milk cup grilled in the fire of hell
The saffron milk cup in the mohair sauce
The saffron milk cup served in the Sunday dish
The nourishing diet for the elderly maidens

Disgrace!
Disgrace, disgrace!

And what can you...?