Hans Solo|52 dębiec – Ego-tyka (English lyrics)

[First verse]
Hi, Hans. I’m a volunteer at a children’s hospice.
I’m just organizing time for kids who are in my care.
There’s this boy, Paweł, who’s got your ”P-n VI” (audio) casette.
He likes your music a lot and I thought that
maybe you could pop in, spend some time with him, have a little chat.
Take a picture, sign an autograph and give him a high five.
He’s very weak so we cannot go to your concert.
He lies in bed all the time.
It’s just a thought. I haven’t told him this yet.
It would be really cool if you could make it.
It would mean a lot to him.
Just be there, if you can.
Let me know what you think.
Here’s my phone number and e-mail address. With kind regards. Take care.
I wrote back that I will when I’ll be performin’ in the neighbourhood.
I didn’t feel like goin’ there. I was too self-involved.
I was doin’ shows and drinking on the weekends – and during the week
I would just be on the bottle.
I was wasting loads of time.
I wasn’t doing jack shit but I never had time for anything.
It was a sad, rainy day. Around noon
I saw a new message in my in-box.
These three words that crushed me
and are haunting me since then
” Paweł died. Regards.”

Ego is ticking loudly
so that you can hear only yourself.
Mirror is shining blindingly
so that you can see only yourself.

[Second verse]
What can you say to a boy who’s showin’ you cut marks.
Self-inflicted pain that’s supposed to mask despair.
Pair of eyes is fixed at you, distant galaxy.
” I wanted to kill myself but your music saved me” he says.
I’m standin’ there shocked by his confession.
How old can he be: 15?
I’m like ‘thanks’, didn’t really know what to say.
Maybe I should have hugged him,
hid him in my pocket and took him
somewhere where it’s safe and warm, wrapped him in a blanket
and kept him there for a long time, away from everything.
How can you help someone to make it through the storm
when you don’t know much yourself.

[Third verse]
What can you say to a little girl at the pediatric oncology ward
who is hiding her head under a blanket and just reaches her hands to you.
She’s embarrased because the hair on her head fell out and she lost her eyebrows.
I’m handing her my album and I’d like to say I’m sorry.
I’m like some clown in this sea of suffering,
handing out stuff and dispensing smiles as if I could change anything.
How I can look in the eyes of a person who is about to die
in this world where only beautiful and practical counts.
Little creature in pyjamas and dog slippers, wrapped in wires.
Behind her there’s a drip stand with IV bags.
She’s shuffling through the hallway unsteadily.
Then all of a sudden she looks at you and smiles radiantly.



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