Andrzej Rosiewicz - Chłopcy radarowcy

There is a cow there in the field, suffering, because she's full of milk,
Maciejowa is running towards her, a discoteque is driving down the road.
Here come, here come the boys, the radar boys,
With their blue hats and batons by their sides.

Life knows such cases: they drive to the outskirts,
They stop somewhere in the bushes, there is a hole or a crack in the fence,
The counter is working already, recording everything,
Every speeding offence, waiting for someone naive.

Once an accountant was driving that way, carrying paychecks for the workers,
Even though he was an upstanding guy at work, he exceeded the limit with his small fiat.
The boys got him, the radar boys,
So he paid three hundred złoty, because he was quite an artist.

Another time, I must say, a soldier was riding on a bike,
Passing by the forests, by the black clouds, he was riding fast, because it was a downhill route.
They were waiting for him around the corner, they took his bike,
The boys are happy, the soldier must go on foot.

A young, pretty policeman was driving from Dąbrowa
On a motorcycle in his everyday clothes, for a trip on a day off.
The boys got him too, the radar boys,
They spotted him from afar, he paid five hundred złoty.

And when it was getting dark, it turned out
That those weren't true policemen, but rather some impostors!
The time has come for a finale, here's the punchline:
There are more and more fakes, it's difficult to get the real thing.

A second variant of the punchline comes to mind too:
If I buy a traffic control baton, I'll quickly pay off my debts!