Dziewczyna się bała pogrzebów [English translation]

To search so long and strangely find oneself all of a sudden,

Though it happens every spring - still it's a miracle.

All nights long, a white devil dances at the bottom of a glass,

At days, you wait at the old park gate.

The border of an ocean of dreams delineated by a crooked fence,

Like a maelstrom of sea foam - a street of elders,

Suddenly the silence breaks, and whoever knows will recognise at once

The funeral bells, oh well, won't come again...

Coz' she was scared of funerals

Every night they crept into her calm dreams:

A black-and-silver caravan

And needless tears

Faint trembling of chrysanths and heads

Coz' she was scared of funerals

Fear creeping on her face like a spider

When tweegy-thin,

Bad, raven horses marched

With black braids on their manes

When she arrived, they took a used car,

An old banger that still managed to pull off 100kph

The paint cracks, the doors clanking, the clutch slips - so what?

You can see the world clearer from under a roof askew.

They had travelled the map from east to west, up and down.

Every new route was already known,

And only when somewhere a black flag preceded a cross

He would take a wild turn at the first block.

Coz' she was scared of funerals

Every night they crept into her calm dreams:

A black-and-silver caravan

And needless tears

Faint trembling of chrysanths and heads

Coz' she was scared of funerals

Fear creeping on her face like a spider

When tweegy-thin

Bad, raven horses marched

With black braids on their manes

This is here, take a closer look, there's still a dent in this tree's bark

And the forest weeps with bitter resin tears.

The tyres' song was filling the air, the engine was gabbing, and the wind was laughing at the window

When he kissed her at the bottom of the night.

Their journey's end marked by ruby-stained, dirty blanket

I won't deny, he had a few drinks before.

For a moment he saw happiness, running into the car-lit night.

Tell me, is there any death more beautiful than this?

And she used to be scared of funerals

Her heart would flutter when they passed

And finally this funeral

Of them two - oh, it so good

To sleep in this silver and black.

Coz' she was scared of funerals

Fear creeping on her face like a spider

When tweegy-thin

Bad, raven horses marched

With black braids on their manes

• Artist:Kult
• Album:Tata Kazika (1993)