I'm heading to the "Wars"
Where Blondi clicks down the aisle in high heels
With Coke Zero and a Snickers for her meals
Balancing her diet — kinda on a leasing deal
I'm heading to the Wars
Where the gents are sipping beer with zeal
In debates that go off like a g*****e's peel
Whenever politics enters the meal
And I'm just ordering pork chop
I'd give the cook a raise, no second thought
Next to me, a couple lost in d**d talk
That train-bound kind of mental block
A tense mama talks non-stop
Telling little Johnny what’s cool and what’s not
AC's still on the blink — no shock
200 km till Warsaw on the clock
And still, the chaos won't stop
So many contrasts
So much acid in this food cart
Maybe it messes with my mood part
But somehow, I know this — by heart
So many contrasts
So much acid in this food cart
Maybe it messes with my mood part
But somehow, I know this — by heart
I'm heading to the "Wars"
Where the suits sip wine like stars
Talking about girls like they’re candy bars
On their way home from business wars
I'm heading to the "Wars"
Where a lady downs a Xanax hard
She’s heard too much 'bout druggy charts
Kids these days — addiction scars
And me? I’m still with the pork chop
This cook deserves a damn job hop
A lady tries to nap in her seat spot
That train-bound kind of sleepy drop
Outside, the rain won’t stop
But it could never cool us off
We Poles burn slow — we’re lava hot
AC still won’t work a jot
100 km to Warsaw — and still, the chaos won’t stop
So many contrasts
So much acid in this food cart
Maybe it messes with my mood part
But somehow, I know this — by heart
So many contrasts
So much acid in this food cart
Maybe it messes with my mood part
But somehow, I know this — by heart
And though they spit in their pans
And their words lack grace or plans
Travelers without a goal
Still — it doesn’t change the soul
It just rolls
Still — it doesn’t change the soul
That’s how it goes
That’s how it flows
