Garden
In blue and grayish hell of glances
My garden planted with heads of gold
For sure the only right things happen
In room next door there lives my God
I meet just wise and friendly people
From trees are flying smiles so bright
If I just finally had to wake up
Over the city would rise wrath
back to
'Zaprzepaszczone Siły Wielkiej Armii Świętych Znaków'