Fisz - Bla bla bla

Certainly, here's a more literal translation of the song lyrics into English:

Aha, we don't talk, we don't talk at all,
Each of us hides sorrows, sorrows, and regrets deep inside... yhm
We don't talk to each other, we don't talk at all,
Each of us hides sorrows and regrets deep inside. That's just how it is.
Just "good day," how's it going, alright, see you tomorrow.
Such blah blah blah, we hide the truth, we don't talk about it at all.
I catch myself that when I talk with friends,
We don't really talk about ourselves, we fly through various topics,
But never about what hurts, everyone prefers to keep it within.
Sometimes we don't have time to listen to someone from start to finish.
One word can help so much, it can work wonders,
Restore meaning, lead onto the right path, it can succeed.
I'm twenty-two years old and still don't have a driver's license,
But thanks to that, I ride buses, trams, beloved subway,
Because I can't afford a taxi, but these are exciting journeys for me,
Because I can eavesdrop on people's conversations,
Which can be instructive.
They enter the subway, or rather, they push,
And I eavesdrop on what these people are talking about.
Some young ladies stand opposite me, I think they're sixteen at most.
One says to the other, "I got so drunk that when I got home, I spent an hour over the toilet."
I turn my head. On the other side, two guys talk to each other.
One says to the other, "Yesterday, I got so drunk that I spent the whole night looking for my way home."
And such conversations continue, it's standard, everyday bread,
Doesn't matter if it's women, men, rich, or poor.
Elders complain, they say how hard it is at every step.
I close my eyes and hear the same patterns: "Hi, how are you, bye, take care."
Everything turns into one big babble, literally about nothing, such blah blah blah.
So, I pondered this,
And so, when I started talking with someone, I ask if something is bothering them,
If they want to chat about something, and then they free themselves from the burden,
And they stare at me, turn pale, tap themselves on the head, so I ask,
Is it so good not to talk at all and to gather all the sorrows and regrets inside? oijoj
And we don't talk, we don't talk at all, oijoj
We hide sorrows, sorrows, and regrets inside, oijoj
And we don't talk, we don't talk at all, oijoj
We hide sorrows, sorrows, and regrets inside.

And I often listen to what the new microphone rookies have to say.
I get disappointed very quickly with that, so I lament that so many talk into the microphone,
That words thrown to the wind somewhere, they fly above the roof, lightly carried because they are empty,
They clutter up good beats, which can be really fat.
I turn on the cassette and hear something like this: "I got so drunk," then a few more times, damn,
And then something about joints, and again a few times, damn,
I don't understand anything from this, there's nothing really, what's hiding in you.
Everyone acts tough, I don't believe in that,
Because I know that fear and terror can be found in everyone.
They rap their own, I hear only blah blah blah,
I press stop with my long crooked finger on the tape recorder, I won't hear anything new, so my hands transport the cassette to the trash oijoj
And we don't talk, we don't talk at all, oijoj
We hide sorrows, sorrows, and regrets inside, oijoj
And we don't talk, we don't talk at all, oijoj
We hide sorrows, sorrows, and regrets inside.

Another situation. Often Fridays or Saturdays,
I spend them in small pubs or clubs.
I walk through Nowy Świat or Stare Miasto in the evening,
On these days, it's crowded everywhere.
Sitting at tables, smoking tobacco, sipping alcohol,
Some spend the evening over, and others under the table.
Noise from conversations, everyone shouting over the music.
And guess what I really hear at the moment,
What I'm writing about is just blah blah blah,
Because the conversation is about nothing, just about nothing,
We speak the same language, though increasingly distorted.
We have our ambitions, complaints, ideals have been sold out,
But I don't lament about that, only about the fact that we really know ourselves less and less,
Because we talk to each other less and less,
But behind the tough guy mask, we hide everything,
Although we live so close to each other.
We only say, "Hi, how's it going?" or "See you later,"
There's not much else to say, it's our routine.
Money talks, when it comes to money, our language is shallow,
And if we talk, it's just blah blah blah, to be honest.
I hope time flies by quickly, no need to dwell on it,
And if we talk, it's just blah blah blah, oh well.

And if we talk, it's just blah blah blah, oh well.
I hope time flies by quickly, no need to dwell on it.
I listen, I listen, something flies into my ear,
I hear blah blah blah again.
I listen, I listen, something flies into my ear,
I hear blah blah blah again.