Taco Hemingway - Mięso

I'm sitting in the Plan B* alone.
You were supposed to be my wife, but nothing has changed.
Three hours in the Plan B alone.
You were supposed to be my wife, but nothing had changed.

Life is a lot of nonsense**, but I want it rare.
You aren't answering the calls, so I'm sending letters.
It's stopped raining and worms are creeping to the city.
I'm sure they're all creeping for a date with you. What a cunts.
My lungs, which were healthy in the past, are making whistling sound now.
Clattering, hums, whizes. I was drinking gin before internist's visit.
I'm still talking 'bout the lungs, but he doesn't want to hear me.
He said: Motherfucker, go away.
Healthy brain constantly creates bad dreams.
And the memories chase me like this verse from the "Beksa"***
I gave you unique things like those from Pewex****,
But you're calling me now: the ex-man
I don't have you, I don't have anything, only texts.
Which bite each other in my notebook constantly like fierced dogs.
I'm close to madness, cold and dirt in my brain
And my heart is shaking like an epileptic.

So many hours in the Plan B alone.
You were supposed to be my wife, but nothing has changed.
Life is:
A run through the cosmos, a few tears, sometimes pleasure.
Later: spider's sticky web in an empty wallet.
Life is:
A run with the flags between the barricades
While the death is chasing and shouting "Stop, citizen!"
Please open your dressing-case. Okey. Please tell us your PESEL***** Okey
Please don't worry about the world and your own existence
Please remember: there is no soul, you are just meat.
Please tell us your PESEL.

All happy people, please stop pissing me off.
'cause I'm planning to tear something off of every happy man
And all those beautifull teeth will be rolling on the ground
If you keep smiling, fuck.
It's not a comedy. Take Antigone as a role model.
There should be a tragedy. Next to this will stand the antique choir.
Please, go kill yourself, really, I can give you a rope,
or some machine gun, but everyone go sleep in the coffins.
I don't sleep. I swallow energy drinks.
You see, how can I sleep, when there is shouting everywhere.
I hear party people's talks and sticky vomit.
And violinist plays something near my window, but he's not bad.
Moreover I'm still waiting. I'm still waintig until she calls.
Tobacco is spinning In my lungs and reinforced concrete is flowing in my veins.
And my life's getting away again and I'm chasing the peleton again.
But life's faster and it's getting away with my woman.
Forget sleeping, leave sleeping for skeletons.
I'm waiting for you in Plan B. I'll be waiting here forever.
I'm texting, but you aren't answering, you're hurting me, you disgrace me.
Yet I just saw, you're playing in the city? Kill yourself.
I'm still waiting. Savior's square******, come and save me.
I wont bite or shoot you, come and drink with me.
Yet I see, you see what I'm writing here.
So tomorrow I'll write it all down and publicise it.


So many hours in the Plan B alone.
You were supposed to be my wife, but nothing has changed.
Life is:
A run through the cosmos, a few tears, sometimes pleasure.
Later: the spider's sticky web in an empty wallet.
Life is:
A run with the flags between the barricades
While the death is chasing and shouting "Stop, citizen!"
Please open your dressing-case. Okey. Please tell us your PESEL. Okey
Please don't worry about the world and your own existence
Please remember: there is no soul, you are just meat.
Please tell us your PESEL.


*Plan B- place in Warsaw
**In Polish you can say "stek bzdur" what mean "steak of nonsense"
***Artur Rojek's song
****Polish shop during communism, where they payed by dollars
***** is the national identification number used in Poland [Wikipedia]
******In Polish "plac zbawiciela"- square in Warsaw