I guess I lost my life. I’m feeling so embarrassed.
I guess I lost my life. I close my eyes and dream.
I’m not a match for her! For she has been to Paris,
And yesterday I learned - it’s 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 man’s flowers,
She doesn’t care two bits about the border’s plants.

I then sang songs again, I thought it’s 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 shouldn’t, really.
The dictionaries then preoccupied my brain.
But what’s all this to her? She’s in the Warsaw city,
The languages we speak are different again.

I’ll say, when she returns, in Polish: "Prosze pani,
Accept me as I am, and I will sing no more!"
But what’s all this to her? I heard she’s now in Mali.
I understood of course, I can’t keep up with her.

For she is here today, tomorrow she’s in Athens -
Yes, I’m in trouble now; yes, I’m in such a mess.
The one who was before and those who will be after,
They all are free to try, I’d better take a rest.