And when I am dying
A general will not come
A director will quietly yawn
Cos an unimportant one is dying
The heart will splash into a lake of silence
A doctor will sign a paper
From counter, a Jackal and a Hiena
Will put my things in a bag
A wife will come in a vail
Here's the passcard, Charon
The gold tooth, stays behind
Adjust the feather and the head
And when I am burried
A drunken son will cry
And trample a distinguished sash
Then he'll go to war
At the cemetery, by the brick wall
The Sun will hide behind a cloud
A light rain will sprinkle
Drowning the memory of me
At the funeral meal with "bigos"
Someone will scream in a terrifying voice
You'll go out to see who's yelling
Finding silence, all around