I guess I lost my life. Iím feeling so embarrassed.
I guess I lost my life. I close my eyes and dream.
Iím not a match for her! For she has been to Paris,
And yesterday I learned - itís hardly her first trip.
What songs I sang to her about the northern country!
I thought: a day or two and we will talk like friends.
It seems I sang in vain about the no manís flowers,
She doesnít care two bits about the borderís plants.
I then sang songs again, I thought itís right to share this -
The Meter and The One Who Was with Her Before,
But what am I to her? For she has been to Paris,
Marcel Marceau himself said something nice to her.
I gave up on my shift, although I shouldnít, really.
The dictionaries then preoccupied my brain.
But whatís all this to her? Sheís in the Warsaw city,
The languages we speak are different again.
Iíll say, when she returns, in Polish: "Prosze pani,
Accept me as I am, and I will sing no more!"
But whatís all this to her? I heard sheís now in Mali.
I understood of course, I canít keep up with her.
For she is here today, tomorrow sheís in Athens -
Yes, Iím in trouble now; yes, Iím in such a mess.
The one who was before and those who will be after,
They all are free to try, Iíd better take a rest.