'Untouched we stand, or how Poland along with Britain and France beat the German Reich in 1940 and became a hegemon of Eastern Europe'.
What’s more, at any moment Poland will take over another overseas colony, and the Commander-in-Chief Śmigły Rydz is preparing to seize full leadership. We’re Strong, Serried and Ready. Meanwhile Tadeusz Król finds a tenor saxophone abandoned by a German jazz-band, Adam Sobolewski disassembles a stolen transceiver and builds a bass banjo together with Andrzej Zamenhof, while Ignacy Woland deserts and meets on his way Antek Czarny, a screwball poet, occultist and hypnotist… On their newest album, Hańba! is even more devoted to their musical and literary concept which they’ve developed over a decade ago, and proves that (post)punk was born in the yards Cracow and Warsaw in the early 1930s. They’re supported by Ziemowit Szczerek, the creator of the Hańba! Universe (Rzeczpospolita Zwycięska) as well as the author of the majority of the lyrics.
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by Ziemowit Szczerek
On the derelict Ruinenwert
Of the thousand-year-old Third Reich
Endless are the borders
The lucence darkens, fire freezes
Endless are the borders
Of the newborn Poland
Inborn, overborn
Once again reborn
Nobody did us any harm
Rydz stands on pedestal
The saviour paroudes, check-mate!
Lead us, oh Commander, into the world!
Strong, loaded and ready!
The cardboard tanks will be useless
When Hitler sends them on us
They will get soaked in the rivers
England and France will aid us
God help us!
But even if they do not support us
We will stand against the enemies alone
Look, on the Reichstag the Polish flag
is hanging and the broken cross
Called Hakenkreuz
Which represents the sun
Is chipped down from the ministry’s facade
And the Polish boots are treading on it
Rugia is blooming with the mothertongue
The Proto-Slavic word is flourishing
On the radio in Warsaw, almost every moment they broadcast the news
Our bombers, our bombers are over Berlin!
Berlin was collapsing, Reichstag was on fire, the British and the French assisted
No one did as any harm – the fascist Fritz fell on his face!
Rydz is trembling, Kraut is beating him up
On the river borders he waits
When the day breaks the brawny tanks
Will take revenge on Jerry’s ass
by Ziemowit Szczerek
Running, dashing Luxtorpeda
Want and misery around
Poverty surrounds the train
But it is lavishing inside
Ticket costs forty zloty
Count it, if you’re still sane
Two weeks of hard labour
Just to move your bottom in the cart
Running, dashing Luxtorpeda
Want and misery around
Poverty surrounds the train
But it is lavishing inside
Do not eat, do not drink, keep saving
Lose weight, do not sleep, keep earning
And there is nothing to pay the rent
To lose yourself in the lux-rush
Lords and officers are onboard
So are sanators and bankers
What delightful manners they have
Those railway cavalrymen!
They give their seats to the ladies
They kiss the countesses’ hands
It smells of good tobacco there
Hands smell of a good lotion
Luxtorpeda cuts through Poland
Through Mazovia and Lesser Poland
Through the fields, between the willows,
Weeping over the furrows
And over those furrows the peasants are plowing
With Godspeed they watch how
Luxtorpeda is running, dashing
And inside the train - priests, heaven-like
With the pink cheeks
Next to the bankers’ ladies
Only sometimes, hey and opa!
The train runs over a yokel
Guts are scattered
The party look at them disgusted
Though from their own guts they toss
To Riga their lux-oysters
From their lordly bowels, bingo bango,
They produce Warsaw-style tripe
The priest is mad, half a day wasted
To put the corpse together
A peasant’s corpse with its peasant fate
Cannot afford a vacation in heaven
Lord’s grace has saved him
But has not insured him
To support his wife and children
So he is holding his guts together
To get hired as a porter
And carry the party’s luggage
Running, dashing Luxtorpeda
Want and misery around
by Jakub Lewicki, Mateusz Nowicki, Andrzej Zagajewski
The obscure and empty palaces of Annopol
We fought only not to get impoverished
A threshing floor, straw mattresses in the shacks
When the country calls, leave everything behind, stand up to defend lords’ homes!
We didn't want war, it came to us
We survived the war hiding in the trenches
We didn't want war, but it came for us
We didn't want to be hungry, but the hunger overwhelmed us
Marshal Rydz shouted: "The enemies will soon be repelled!"
We crossed the San and Narew, the Vistula and the Warta
Nobody asked us what about the areas given up to Krauts
April’s here, desolated ground, we ought to eat dogs and horses!
Not bombs, not missiles
Not tanks, not blitzkrieg
Not the infantry soldiers
Not ships, not planes
Only hunger and plague will lead us to the grave
We didn't want war, it came to us
We survived the war hiding in the trenches
We didn't want war, but it came for us
Poverty and scarcity - will get us tomorrow.
by Ziemowit Szczerek
Hey, somewhere in Belarus
The executioner sits down to his torture
And performs it accurately
He breaks the joints, he breaks the bones
Kartuzy shone here out of boredom
Today the time is not running so slow
They’re tearing our nailsout
They don't even let us shit!
Hey, hey, hey in Bereza!
We live on water-bread
For those who offend the leader Rydz
The jailer has a special taunt
We, political prisoners
We live here idyllically
Manicures, pedicures
Together with leather tanning
Nobody will ask for us
Because if you do - remember
If our fate bothers you
You will land here among us!
by Józef Wittlin
All the neighbours on the tram
Immersed in the same newspapers.
Let's look at their faces:
They all look
Like born criminals
Through cold eyes to all brains
All bad news is creeping in
All the people, all the souls, swallow up the same grime
Everyone is happy,
That someone was murdered
That someone was arrested
Everyone is happy,
That someone was murdered
That someone was arrested
That someone was kidnapped
That someone was tortured
That someone was questioned
That someone was shot
by Edward Szymański
... And the Scriptures speak of Christ the Lord,
that he walked barefoot through the deserts -
while you in the gardens of the Vatican
sit in a shiny, luxourius limousine.
... And the Scriptures speak of Christ the Lord,
that he had nothing to lay his head on -
while you in the glittering hall of the Vatican
sleep on the silky soft bedsheets.
... And the Scriptures speak of the Son of Man,
that he always stood up for the oppressed,
he cared for the paupers, healed the lepers,
he did not wear gold, and despised money.
- And into your palaces are only allowed
The ministers, princes and leaders,
and one must take their place among the powerful,
to kiss the sandal on your foot.
Oh, Bishop of Rome, "the first of God's servants" -
from which world do your power and your homeland come?
When your God calls you to his judgment
will he acknowledge you?
Did the might of Satan scare you
Or do you wish to fight for the new truths,
that you gave your private army
machine guns and gas masks?
by Ziemowit Szczerek
A bathroom in every flat
The radio’s soothing voice
It was supposed to be like that
But different were the odds
There is nothing to add up
No money, no land, not a thing
We work hard in the sweat
And then – get wasted!
But every bloke is proud
He forges the future of COP
Do you hear the iron steps?
That’s us - the lost litter of urbanization!
You can't build a future
For what, for those pennies?
But don't say you regret it
Because you’re forging the Polish fate
Part for the nook in some flat
Part for the family in the countryside
And all that’s left for you, poor man,
Is something for the cheap booze
Bottle of vodka, blank eyes
The proud COP workers
We live in the slums, that's life
That’s us - the lost litter of urbanization!
And then straight from Warsaw
Reporter, a grand lord
Arrives, wrings his hands
To give money to people like those!
Proles - pathology
They want nothing but a drink
These rotters do not deserve it
Off with their payments, damn it!
by Ziemowit Szczerek
Hit the Lithuanian with a stock
Commander, lead us to Kaunas!
He did not want to create a state with us
We have to humiliate those fuckers
The Soviets had better behave
Remember the miracle of the Vistula
If they try something funny
We’ll shove the Pinsk Fleet in their mouths!
Belarussians, Ukrainians
Those Orthodox loafers
If they wish autonomy
We’ll demolish the tserkovs and so long!
As for the Czechs and Slovaks
Hitler did a good job
We also benefited from it
And we took Zaolzie
We will also beat the Krauts
We will remind them of the first Tannenberg
In our fields of wet mud
Panzer platoons will be stuck!
The only thing left is, you know
The Kingdom of Romania
Friendship has to be strengthened with them
So we would have a place to flee to!
by Jakub Lewicki, Andrzej Zagajewski
The clergy love the peace
They help the poor, they turn their cheek
So today, for the sake of the good
They fund the mortars for the army
From offerings and sincere tributes
Shovel, grenade, rifle
To bring truth and liberation
And to regain the Piast lands
So help us God!
Edicts - about guns
Chasubles - for crusades
Incense - for hussar wings
Forgiveness of sins - for the clangor
Bayonets - for caps
Wafer - for the crusade
Sprinklers - for hussar wings
Forgiveness of sins - for the clash of bayonets
We will pray for national intentions,
That there would be more and more of us
We will celebrate prayers in Częstochowa
Let the evil Teutonic knight perish!
The bishop will preach
It's a God-given victory!
He will explain in beautiful words
Polish faith is a state matter
So help us God!
by Ziemowit Szczerek
The Most Serene set the sails
Versatile and Victorious
Hey, over the waters, over the ocean!
After all, Poland has no colonies
It’s a prestigious matter, after all
You have to colonize something
Whether English or the Spanish
Even the Germans have done it
We are not geese, we are not worse
We also want to wear the shorts
Pith helmets, mosquito nets
All this fancy colonial stuff
So instead of emigration
Do our own gastarbeitation
Civilize the dark skinned ones
Do the white man’s burdening
Every bloke must breed something
Every country - colonize
And will it pay off for us?
Don't cut the wings, brother!
Polish, Polish Caribbeans
No matter it’s all on credit
Who the hell needs us there
The Great Polish Sea Power!
Polish, Polish Madagascar
Polish hand pets the Malagasy
And it deeply cares caring for him
Why is the Malagasy rejecting the Polish hand?