They called him King
In the city of the Holy Tower
I remember from primary school
When he kissed the Pope
The secretary also passed by
When they were cutting ribbon
Kingy played truant
Dream about something else
He was always a bit on the side
He was a bit out of whack
Nobody knew at school
What King really was he lived
It was a little later
He had a friend Ewa
So they lived without getting married
And they were in sweet poverty
They sometimes had a blast
Because they liked light drugs
There were many friends
Evenings and mornings
Be careful of your neighbors
Because they like to tip you off
You know who rules in the city
This is the bishop with the commissioner, King
That's what his friend told him
Long, skinny Lolo
When they went out on the street
Smoke a spliff with cola
I'm fed up with this city
Red and black mafia
Do you understand me Lolo
Do you know what is bothering me
In the apartment pale Ewa
I want to explain everything
Because the commissioner climbed in through the window,
And he climbed out from under the bed bishop
What's in your pocket, King?
The commissioner asked at the door
You're still smoking that stuff
We've had a lot of complaints
And the bishop is glaring from the side
That's for Kinga, for Ewa
You live here in a godless manner
Do you think I don't know anything?
For possessing weed
You will get ten years
For having an illegal relationship with her
The next few bars
Today Kingy is sitting in a cell
He remembers the good days
He wrote to the Pope
A very long letter
He sent a Christmas card
To the president himself
But no one talks about him anymore
No one remembers him