Have been learning to sing, play acoustic guitar n keyboard...Creatin miusic video covers...Suffering from Schizophrenia. Some recordings are better, some are worse..but U can see the evolution of my Voice..I am using my Music as a Force against my Illness.

Polska Lubelska Pie?? Partyzancka:

Pami?ci mojego kochanego Dziadzia(BCH lubelszczyzny)...

Dzi? do Ciebie przyj?? nie mog?




Dzi? do ciebie przyj?? nie mog?,
Zaraz id? w nocy mrok,
Nie wygl?daj za mn? oknem,
W mgle utonie pró?no wzrok.
Po có? ci, kochanie, wiedzie?,
?e do lasu id? spa?.
D?u?ej tu nie mog? siedzie?,
Na mnie czeka le?na bra?.
D?u?ej tu nie mog? siedzie?,
Na mnie czeka le?na bra?.

Ksi??yc zaszed? hen, za lasem,
We wsi gdzie? szczekaj? psy,
A nie pomy?l sobie czasem,
?e do innej t?skno mi.
Kiedy wróc? znów do ciebie,
Mo?e w dzie? ,a mo?e w noc,
Dobrze b?dzie nam jak w niebie,
Poca?unków dasz mi moc,
Dobrze b?dzie nam jak w niebie,
Poca?unków dasz mi moc

Gdy nie wróc?, niechaj z wiosn?
Rol? moj? sieje brat.
Ko?ci moje mchem porosn?
I u?y?ni? ziemi szmat.
W pole wyjd? pewnego ranka,
Na snop ?yta d?onie z?ó?
I uca?uj jak kochanka,
Ja ?y? b?d? w k?osach zbó?.
I uca?uj jak kochanka,
Ja ?y? b?d? w k?osach zbó?.

Polish Partiotic song:

For a Remembership of my Beloved Grandfather...

I can’t came to you today
I’m going to the dark of night right now
Don’t look for me trough the window
Your gaze will disappear in the fog
You shouldn’t know
That I will go sleep to the forest
I can’t still be here
My forest company is waiting for me
I can’t still be here
My forest company is waiting for me

The moon had gone away, behind a forest
Dogs are yapping somewhere in the village
But don’t think, please
That I miss another girl
When I will come back to you
Maybe at the day, but maybe at the night
We’ll got a heaven on the Earth
You will give me a lot of kisses
We’ll got a heaven on the Earth
You will give me a lot of kisses

But if I won’t came, if the spring will came
My brother should do mine cultivation
My bones will overgrow by moss
And fertilize a lot of ground
Some day you will go at our field
And put your hands at bundle of rye
And kiss them like a lover
I will live in spikes of grain
And kiss them like a lover
I will live in spikes of grain

Poland