In a certain city that lies somewhere there
Between Szklarska Poręba* and Gdynia*
There lived a man who had among women
The worst but earned opinion
It's hard to find any virtues in him
Whereas vices he'd continually develop
So girls would not at all hide
What they thought of men like him
They would tell him that he's a scoundrel
They would tell him that he's a bastard
That he's a nothing
That he should be waved away
They would tell him: begone from here!
They would tell him: Oh, you!
They said this once and one-hundred
For so many days
Although it's hard to expect from a scoundrel
That anything of truth will reach him
That he'll sense what's at the bottom of this
That he'll understand that he knows everything
They would tell him: begone from here!
They would tell him: Oh, you!
They said this once and one-hundred
For so many days
You need strength to change this world
Where is a girl to get this strength?
Words of truth spoken for years
Maybe they would change him
It's just that he would look like that into their eyes
That things would feel somewhat differently
And those words that were meant to mean something
Suddenly meant something else
They would tell him that he's a scoundrel
They would tell him that he's a bastard
That he's a nothing
That he should be waved away
They would tell him: begone from here!
They would tell him: Oh, you!
They said this once and one-hundred
For so many days
Although it's hard to expect from a scoundrel
That anything of truth will reach him
That he'll sense what's at the bottom of this
That he'll understand, then again, who knows
They would tell him: begone from here!
They would tell him: Oh, you!
And something would change
And there was a proud sense in this
They would tell him that he's a scoundrel
They would tell him that he's a bastard
That he's a nothing
That he should be waved away