Słowa
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Here comes a barrow, rumbling down the lane
some call him a thief, some say he was insane
straining in the darkness, sleeping in the day
that's what they say
a lifeless body in a mothy robe
a worn-out hat and a perforated coat
nobody's gonna miss him
or gather at his grave
that's what they say
What's your name, vababond?
Where have you been?
What's your aim, vagabond?
What have you seen?
Where do you come from
and what do you strive?
Come, tell me about a vagabond's life
Ashes to ashes, the glow of thrombose
leaves off society, he's one of those
was living on others with all of us to shame
that's what they say
