Boža zvani Pub [English translation]

This is a story that I very much enjoy telling

It's the story of Boža AKA The Jack.

Some sing him praises, others pity him

Yet others say: "Oh, brother,

He was as rotten as a hollow tooth."

From here all the way to Budapest and to Srem in the south

Stories about him are still told in shady gambling circles

And they say: "He never played on credit in his life!"

And they all agree that these days

There are none like Boža The Jack

He had some land somewhere, that was more-or-less known

Even though he never said a word about it

He was supposed to be a veterinarian, but he was having none of it

So he lived off gambling all his life

Oh, that man followed cards as if he saw through them

Always cool as spritzer, always dangerously silent

And only when warding off bad luck he'd say a verse

And everybody still remembers the words for warding off bad luck

As said by Boža The Jack

Money won't help you, my dear nephews*

And neither will good will

Not your stern gazes, and not your sticky fingers

I still cheat a little better

Yes, that is so!

But the card is a whore, excuse my French

Because I just tell it as I hear it

And if I was lied to, then I'm lying to you now

Everybody knows this story, from the devil to the priest

For many scoundrels were left with nothing

There's a gambler hiding and lurking in every one of us

And waiting for the right moment

He once played cards with some Russian emigrant

That was a loan shark as rich as a prince

There was also the postmaster, endearingly called Ljupče

And some smuggler that the whole district was looking for

Oh, that was a game, stories are still told

Onlookers in trance, cold sweat breaking

A heap of money on the table, let's not mention the amount

And he drew a queen on eighteen*

Cool as ice, Boža The Jack

Have you heard about the time when he played with a certain baron

For four days? That was war!

He had strong cards all the time, so he won a carriage

A black horse, a cigarette case, a walking stick and a watch

The baron later complained that the deck was old

That he drank too much, that he was caught up in the excitement

But all the losers moan, that's a well known thing

And everybody loses at least sometimes

But never Boža The Jack

Money won't help you, my dear nephews

And neither will good will...

In matters of love, he was no Tarzan

But he was by no means a hare

He had some ladies here and there, but we all know very well

That what counts with women is some fifth ace

Love is a game in which bluffing often doesn't work

A heart is harder to get into than the best safe

He had his ladies of diamonds, spades, hearts and clubs

And he remained faithful to them

Until the judgement day, Boža The Jack

My dear gentlemen, he disappeared without a trace

Giving the whole story a weird tone

Some horse traders swore that near Sombor they met

Some guy that looked exactly like him

Maybe cards took him all the way to Prague or Vienna

Nobody's heard a word about him for a long time

Is he still hanging around on Earth or has he thrown in the towel

And now plays with angels in heaven

Raub, Préférence and Pontoon*

Money won't help you, my dear nephews

And neither will good will...

• Artist:Đorđe Balašević
• Album:Pub (1982)