.To ju przedmiecia gorzki smak,
Autobus rusza w krtki rejs...
Zdyszana biegne z artu w art,
Z podry w podr, z wiersza w wiersz.
I kocham, pragne, trace tak,
Jak by sie chwil stawa rok,
Jak gdyby wiat wymyka mi sie z rk.
To, co mam (to, co mam),
To rado najpiekniejszych.
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