Maryla Rodowicz - Domowa czarownica

One day you'll wake up, my mister,
and you'll see a table lying down tired of standing,
chairs walking upside down,
a type machine typing lines of its own,
dancing books with plain spines

And I... I'll simply be gone!

I warn you, you'll wake up, my mister,
and you'll realize you just can't break the spell
off of the chairs walking upside down,
off of the type machine typing lines of its own,
can't stop the books with plain spines

And I... I'll simply be gone!

'Cause before I am covered
with heaps of laundry and stacks of plates,
am loaded with crumbs of life,
I shall do my dance with a broom -
a household witch!

2x
The wings of a grey apron
I will spread over the smoke,
and the world's rubbed down rug
will disappear somewhere over the clouds

And if I get burnt by the sun,
I will let the broom go off my hand,
like a wingless moth I shall fall
straight to the flame of your oven.